You wake up feeling a searing pain all over, groaning softly. Someone was cutting the ropes off of your hands as you looked around groggily. The dead bodies of the burly biker gang were everywhere. Before you can say anything, the person cutting the ropes off comes around to face you. It’s Billy. He shakes you gently. Hey, love. Are you alright? He asks softly. He helps you up and takes you back to the car, where you promptly return to your motel room. He lays you on the bed and starts patching up your injuries, hiding so many emotions. Anger, sorrow, and guilt. He refuses to look you in the eyes.