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Free Falling	By : CertainUncertainty Category: +S through Z > Saints Row Views: 1633 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Saints Row: The Third or any of its characters, nor do I make a profit from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
It had gotten darker outside. The clouds looked heavy and the smell of rain was in the air. A storm was coming their way. Denitra considered asking Jamien if she'd be allowed to stand in it for a little while if it did begin to rain, but seeing the blank expression on his face, decided against it.
"Get in the car."
She looked over at him, and tried hard to fight the frown that threatened to kill her good mood. She hated the way he talked to her, ordering her around like she was one of his minions. She hated how he didn't understand the concept of being polite, as if the words "please" and "thank you" would simply kill him. She hated that he was a Saint, and somehow, she'd been talked into keeping the lunatic company for another six days. Oh, how cruel the world can be...
"Dee, get in the car." He turned towards her, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and tossing the butt away. He yanked open the passenger door to the Hammerhead and gestured for her to get inside.
She sighed and complied, taking care to put on her seat belt. This whole morning was fucked up. Normally, she would love to go out and go to the salon to have her hair and nails done. She would love to go shopping and buy new clothes and jewelry.
His presence alone made her hate things she used to love.
He closed the door for her and lazily walked around to the driver's side. Instead of getting in, he leaned on the door, reaching down to press a button, locking her inside. She couldn't help but look at him like he'd gone mad; with the windows down, there was no point. "I need you to promise me something."
She huffed and sat back in her seat. It was beginning to seem this man constantly wanted something from her, including conversation. She gave him an annoyed look, prompting him to continue.
He licked his lips as he stared at her then looked over his shoulder at a group of men standing across the street. "Can you stay in the car while I go talk to a friend?" He nodded his head in the direction he'd be going, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.
She smacked her lips and scratched her head, wondering why he thought he'd have to ask. If she wanted to run, she would do so, promise or not. She probably wouldn't even have to run, but just scream and yell for help. Bottom line, if she wanted to get away, she would. He would be leaving her unattended for who knows how long. Unless... "Will you shoot me if I don't?"
The question seemed to surprise him. His eyebrows rose in question and he tilted his head to the side. "Do you want me to?"
She thought about it. Was death better than being in a Saint's company?
What a dumb question.
She nodded eagerly. "If you wouldn't mind."
He seemed to be disturbed by her answer. "And they say I'm nuts. Can you just stay in the car?" He looked at her then added, "Please?"
She felt her shoulders drop in defeat. Puppy eyes on a grown man shouldn't be cute. But, damn it, if it wasn't cute on the man talking to her. It was no secret that he was attractive. She'd noticed how ladies reacted to him when he walked into the room, when he spoke to them. It seemed she wasn't immune to his charms. He reminded her of a charismatic high school class clown, with his constant mischievous smiles and off-handed jokes. She wondered what she'd done that was worth being punished like this.
"What are you going to do, exactly? Does it involve drugs?"
His head dropped down. "No."
"Why do I have to stay in the car?"
"Isn't that obvious?" He held out his hands. "So you won't be noticed."
"I thought the new look was supposed to take care of that."
"As you pointed out earlier, that idea had a few kinks."
"So then what was the point of going through with it?"
"Your rainbow vomit dress was an eyesore. I don't want to be seen walking around with an attractive bag of Skittles. While it would be entertaining to do so, I'd really don't want to spend time shooting slobby fat people or convincing any wandering mascots that, no, you aren't available nor looking for a job."
Her jaw dropped open. "Rainbow vomit?"
"Hey," he held his hands up in defense, standing up, "I call it like I see it. It looked like Barney shit sunshine on you. This way, I can look at you without needing sunglasses."
"I just found another reason to want to get away from you." She hissed darkly, looking away from him, trying not to focus on the fact that he'd called her attractive.
She heard him chuckle. "I can't help it. I have AAD. It's incurable."
She looked at him, curious. "AAD? What's that?"
"Automatic Asshole Disorder." He laughed, stepping backwards into the street, pointing at her. "Stay in the ca-"
So much happened at once, Denitra had trouble processing it. He was simply gone. The Churchill's horn seemed to be stuck and its windshield was cracked, destroyed upon the impact of a human body. The elderly lady driving the car stared at ahead, as if looking for the cause of her sudden stop, then went back to fiddling with her radio. She was standing in front of Jamien's car, looking down at his body as he laid on the asphalt, dazed. "Jamien!"
Upon hearing his name, he looked at her, and a slow smile crossed his face. "I'm okay." As he struggled to his feet, the Churchill took off, tires screeching as it sped away. "Old bitch."
She reached for him. "Come on, get out of the street." He reached out his hand for her. "You need to sit down so I can call an ambul-"
She froze, unable to move. A speeding car, possibly a red and black Infuego, plowed into Jamien, sending him flying up into the air. It was cartoonish, the way his body flopped around in the air, but it was hardly funny at all. It was like watching a train derail off of its tracks-something any person would have trouble taking their eyes off of. He came back down quickly, only to be hit again and again by pursuing police cars. Denitra was unable to count them. The smell of burning rubber was stifling, choking her. By the time the cars had passed, he was in the middle of the intersection. A single thought broke through Denitra's mind, spearing her heart.
'Be careful what you wish for...'
Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything. She was shaking, dangerously close to fainting. Her stomach churned violently, wanting to reject the only food she'd had that morning.
He didn't move.
Tears blurred her vision. Her mind and heart suddenly declared war on each other, two different reactions needing to take place. She needed to get him to safety, out of the street and call for help. She needed to scream at the injustice of it all, namely police officers hitting an (arguably) innocent person and not stop to call medical attention for him. Admittedly, she hated the Saints, and maybe hated Jamien even more so, but he was still a human being. Life was precious, and deserved to be treated as such. What a person did with their life was their choice, not the choice of others.
And, as if it all weren't enough, it began to rain.
He still didn't move.
"JAMIEN!" When the decision had been made, she'd never figure it out, but suddenly she was at his side. Her fingertips gently touched his cheek, trying to coax him to consciousness. "Please, please don't be dead." She put her ear to his chest and listened, straining due to the angry honking of the impatient drivers needing to drive to their destinations. "Please, please, please, Jamien."
Faintly, she heard the beat of life in his chest.
The pace of the raindrops slowly picked up. Denitra knew she shouldn't move him, but it really did seem like these people wouldn't lose a wink of sleep at night if they decided to treat him like a road bump. She moved quickly, putting her hands under his arms. Once she had a good grip on him, she dragged his limp body back over to his car, laying him down on the sidewalk on the passenger side. She looked him over, aware that she was crying over someone she considered her enemy. A deep cut marred his cheek, allowing blood to flow freely from it. She gingerly touched his jaw, feeling for dislocation, but found herself wanting to kiss that same spot, as her mother would when she was younger. She wanted to kiss his pain away. She wanted him to open those startling blue eyes and smile at her, just once again.
"Jamien." She whispered, her voice breaking with more unshed tears. "Wake up."
"Is he okay?" A woman's voice snatched her back to reality. She looked over her shoulder to see the cashier from Leather & Lace looking on with concern. Denitra remembered that she was supposed to be getting the man help, not crying over him.
"His heart's still beating." She answered, and began patting his pockets down until she found his phone. The screen was cracked badly, but she was still able to dial 911.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"M-my...friend...just got hit by a bunch of cars-"
His wet hand grabbed hers, lowering the phone away from her face. "I thought I told you to stay in the car?" He rasped, eyes still shut.
"Jamien, you're hurt. I'm calling an ambul-"
"No, no. Not those fuckers." His hand closed around the phone, snapping what was left of it in half. "I can take care of myself, thank you."
"Jamien! Don't be an idiot. You need medical attention. You could have broken-"
"So you do care." His smile was a watered down version of his usual one.
"What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I care! You're hurt-" She stopped abruptly, reality slapping the shit out of her. "You bastard. You planned this, didn't you?"
Jamien laughed in response, stopping to cough. "I planned to get hit by a few cars. Granted, I didn't anticipate to be stampeded by steel, but I got the reaction I was looking for out of you."
Denitra looked away from him, staring at the car door ahead of her, and contemplated violence. She realized that it wasn't worth it and stood up. She yanked open the car door, hitting him with it until his body slid out of the way enough for her to get in, and slammed the door shut.
"Oh, come on Dee. You have to admit even you're surprised by your reaction."
She was surprised, but she would never tell that asshole that.
"You're not gonna even help me into the car?" She still refused to answer him. "Fine, be that way." He grunted as he hauled himself to his feet, pausing to wave to the concerned cashier. "It's too late now, I know you care." He wagged his finger at her as he sung in singsong.
She flipped him off.
"Oh, ho! Now, now. Don't go offering what you aren't prepared to give, missy." He teased, then paused, eyeing her. "Or are you?" He hobbled around to the driver's side and got in. "If you're willing to give me medical attention of that kind, I'd gladly take it." He turned the car on and put it in gear. "For being such a good sport, I'll take you to Planet Saints for more clothes, things you wouldn't object to wearing."
Still nothing.
"You know, you're sexy when you're mad."
She gave him a brief glare before turning her head away. Maybe he really did need to go to the hospital, apparently he'd lost what little mind he had left and couldn't tell just how close to death he was.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Free Falling