Ruby's eyes darted from Jake, who looked surprised but pleased, then back to Kristen, who wasn't convincing her in the least.
"Hmm. Again, heh? I hope so girl, I really do.” She glanced at her watch. "We need to talk, call me, you hear? I gotta go. Later, Jake.” She smiled at him, brushing his hand and giving him an odd, but knowing look. After planting a kiss on Kristen's cheek, Ruby dodged across Columbus Circle, sneaking a final look.
They both stood frozen, in awe at her sudden appearance and departure. When they faced each other, Kristen wet her lips, avoiding his imploring eyes.
LOGAN
Still in a state of shock, Logan was stiff and numb, his hand inoperable. He did his best to obey the female officer as she pressed his fingers down on the live scan machine.
"My God, can you lighten up? Your finger is gonna crack off!" This was the third time she had to redo his right thumb, and she still had the left hand to do.
Logan let out a helpless sigh. He just wanted to sleep—or die. He wasn't sure which. He hadn't given up the idea that this was a nightmare, but didn’t’ want to admit to himself that if it was, it would have ended by now.
Hours must have passed before they finally finished the booking process and dumped him in a cell with at least fifteen ferocious looking detainees. He needed to sit down, exhausted beyond belief, but couldn't move his hands from the bars or allow himself to look back at anyone in there with him. Trying to obliterate the stench and cackling, he put his hands on his ears and screamed out.
By the time an officer took him to make a phone call, Logan felt so sick he didn't know if he could stay on his feet, let alone speak. He already told them several times he wanted an attorney, which was the only thing he could remember to do. There was no way he could survive if he had to stay in that hell hole.
It was a toss-up in his fuzzy mind: whether to call Kristen, Gina, or Nick. Nick would be really pissed off and he couldn't remember Gina's number; they took his cell phone and wallet. Hunched over the pay phone, trying to blend into the stark white wall, he dialed Kristen. It rang at least 5 times before she eventually picked up.
KRISTEN/JAKE
After the run-in with Ruby, Jake was so wired he suggested they hike as far as possible to calm down. When they reached 23rd street they decided to rest and grab a bite to eat. There was still a crippling edginess, but it was gradually diminishing. The uneasiness that prevented them from touching during the trek to the cafe had worn off. Jake didn't fight his urge to hold her hand any longer, but they were at a loss for words as they picked up the pace.
Thankful to be back at the apartment, they flopped on the couch, their legs touching. The electricity that sparked their short relationship was intensifying and they kissed, long and deep. When they broke apart Jake held her head to his chest, stroking her hair.
"Thirsty?" he asked, a knowing look in his eyes. "Wine?"
"Yes," she whispered, lifting herself off of him with lazy reluctance.
Her eyes trailed after him, absorbed in the moment. The sudden ringing of her cell phone alarmed her. Recalling she called Marty earlier, she grabbed the phone without checking.
"Kristen… You gotta get me outta here! I'm in jail. In Miami! Please, honey, get me out.” Logan’s whimpers burned into her ear.
Kristen sprang to her feet in surprise. I can’t believe he’s calling me!
"What? What did you do, Logan?" She felt like a fool for answering the call, yet couldn't quell the butterflies in her stomach. Somehow, she never noticed Jake walk back into the room.
"I'm locked up. I'm freakin out..."
Jake stiffened next to her. It was the first time he heard his voice, as it echoed through her phone, and it disgusted him. The wine bottle thudded onto the coffee table. His narrowed eyes fixed intently on her as he listened. With a start, she focused on him, a troubled look on her face.
"I can't help you, Logan. You’re in Florida! What the hell do you want me to do?" Her heart was throbbing, about to burst through her chest, her face bright red.
"I don't know... I need bail... I don't know.” He was rattling on through his muffled sobs.
Jake stood next to the couch now, the bottle of wine in his hand again.
The tension was palpable. She began to panic. "I have to go. Sorry.” Before Logan could utter another word, she ended the call. Afraid to look at Jake, she rushed to the bathroom, feeling sick to her stomach.
LOGAN
Logan held onto to the pay phone cubicle, paralyzed with despair. He let his hair hang in long, wet strands over his face, hoping it would hide him from the leering detainee that hovered nearby waiting for his turn.
"No luck, buddy. Back to the cell," the officer ordered, his voice flat and dull.
Logan crept along next to him, his head bowed in dejection while they passed by rows of cells with cackling inmates. Between the black hole in his mind and the violent trembling, he was consumed with hopelessness and incapable of thinking.
They moved him to a double holding cell with two beat-up cots, a toilet, and sink in the middle. Crawling onto the empty cot, Logan curled up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest. Cramming his fist in his mouth to prevent his snoring cellmate from hearing his tormented sobs, he closed his eyes. I should have been nicer to Kristen. Maybe then she wouldn't hate me so much.
All he could do was obsess about her until weariness overcame his will, and he drifted into a restless sleep.
JAKE/KRISTEN
Jake downed his second glass of wine, wishing for something harder to take the unbearable edge off. Kristen was still holed up in the bathroom. He knew she was trying to avoid an argument about her asshole husband. This was the second time his determination to get her out led him to the door. But nothing changed. As soon as he reached it he backed down. And it was driving him crazy.
"I'm outta here!" he shouted out. Grabbing his keys, he took a few more swigs from the wine bottle, just as the bathroom door burst open.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
He stopped in his tracks in front of the door, without turning around. She flew to him, clenching his arm.
"Out!” He jerked away, hoping to hide the pain in his eyes.
"Why? I hung up on him! It's not my fault he called!" She was desperate to turn back time and start over. The tears were streaming down her face and she made no effort to wipe them away.
"But it's your fault you answered, isn't it? It's your fault you're lying to me—playing your little head games!" His voice was bitter and filled with disgust. He turned away, trying to ignore her tears.
"I'm sorry I answered! I don't know what I was thinking! I didn't know it was him, I swear!" Her voice cracked through her sobs.
Unwavering, he digested her words, taking in long deep breaths to regain composure. He despised this battling. The torment in his soul. Her anguish.
"Kristen. Look at me.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently lifted her head, brushing her hair out of her face. His eyes brimmed with moisture.