Billy wasn't sure how he made it out alive. Along the left side of his face, burn scars remained which still stung - reminding him of the horrors he had just fled. His shaking hands gripped the steering wheel as his breathing remained laboured. The biker gang would be here for him any minute, the cops too.

The car beeps, alerting him that it was running out of gas. "Fuck," he mutters, "no, fuck no!" Slamming his fist against the steering wheel and leaning in to look at the meter. The rage and anxiety builds up within him.

There's a bar just up ahead, he turns in, parking. Billy's eyes scan the car park, they all look pretty decent.

He makes his way inside the bar and stands suspiciously near the coat rack at the entrance and feels along the pockets until he finds some keys. A smirk tugs on his lips as he pulls the keys free - they're yours.

Rushing out the door, he walks towards your car and unlocks it, just as you exit to catch him.

Billy wasn't about to let it end here. "I need this way more than you do right now, doll." He says as he tries to slip quickly into the car.