Well, fuck me. This is not how I planned for tonight to go.
The woman in the seat next to me sounds like she’s on the verge of losing it, so I steer the vehicle one handed and keep the hand nearest her loose on my lap. That way I’m ready when she eventually decides to retaliate. Because I’m sure it’s coming.
We pass under a streetlamp before taking a sharp turn to circle behind Leland’s building, and the thin yellow bands of light shimmer across her tear-stained cheek.
I don’t hurt women. I certainly don’t kill women. But I need her to keep cooperating for the time being. And fear has always proven to be a swift and thorough motivator.
I do feel bad about kidnapping her, but if she hadn’t shown up on that fucker’s doorstep, she wouldn’t be in my car now. So, really, it’s mostly her fault.
My foot is depressing the brake to make the last turn back onto the road that runs in front of Leland’s building when I notice Savannah start to reach for her seat belt.
While one hand turns the wheel, I slide the other one across the center console and set my hand over the buckle. She’s keeping her eyes ahead, playing at the compliant hostage, so she doesn’t see the movement.
I expect her to yank away the second her fingers make contact with my skin, but she doesn’t seem to realize it’s me that she’s touching. Her fingers spread as she tries to feel for the buckle, and that’s when she freezes, with her hand gently holding mine.
It’s almost comical how her head slowly turns, and how her gaze slowly drops, before she jerks her hand away with a yelp.
Okay, so maybe I don’t laugh, but I do smile.
She shouldn’t be this cute, with terror in her eyes and tears on her cheeks, but she is. And I learned long ago not to fight my emotional reactions. Life is way more fun when you just let yourself feel and don’t bother with psychoanalyzing every moment to death.
“Please, let me go.” Her whispered plea is shaky, and she says it to her lap, where her hands are now clutched together.
Instead of replying, I stomp on the gas, and we accelerate past Leland’s shitty apartment building.
When another minute of silence goes by, she tries again.
“I w-won’t say anything.”
I can feel her looking at me, but rather than make eye contact, I remove my hand from where it was still covering her seatbelt to tap the screen on my dashboard to make a call. “I know.”
The loud ringing comes through the car speakers, and Savannah jumps in her seat.
I adjust the volume and it rings once more before the call is answered. “It’s past your bedtime, old man. Why’re you up?”
This jackass.
“I need cleaners sent––” I start, but my words are cut off by Savannah’s frantic shouts.
“Help! Help!” She leans forward in her seat, looking at the ceiling for the mic. “Can you hear me?! I’m being kidnapped! Help!”
There’s a beat of silence before Nero’s laughter fills the car.
Savannah jerks away from the noise, her back pressing against the seat.
“Damn, King. You finally call me with something interesting,” Nero continues to laugh. “Can’t wait to hear this story.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. This isn’t going to make my situation any better.
“You’re not gonna help me.” It’s a statement, and Savannah says it quietly, but Nero still hears it.
“Sorry, lady. If my man took you, it’s for your own good. Or maybe his own good.” I can picture the stupid grin that’s probably on his face.
Savannah lunges for her car door, jerking wildly on the handle.
But it doesn’t open, and it won’t until I choose to open it for her.
“Quit,” I tell her.
She doesn’t.
“Quit it!” I shout, trying to break through her panic.
While she keeps trying, her sobs turning to hiccups, I keep hold of the steering wheel with my left hand and lean across, snagging both her wrists in my right.
She screams, the sound nearly deafening in the enclosed space.
“Jesus, woman!” She almost dislodges my grip, so I tighten my hold. “Just fucking chill!”
Her struggle only intensifies, and I have to tug her hands toward me, pulling her half over the center console to get her contained.
Using my forearm to pin hers down, I keep her hands gripped together in my lap. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable for her, but if she makes me wreck my favorite vehicle, I’m gonna be pissed.
Stomping on the gas, I fly through a yellow light and aim for the entrance to the freeway.
“Remember what I said about shooting anyone that comes to help you?” I grit out, and she finally quiets. “That goes for the first responders, too. So, if you make me crash, I’m gonna have to start picking off first responders, and you’re going to be the proximate cause of death for a lot of people.”
She goes limp, dropping her chin down, her forehead touching my arm.
I’ll admit that it’s maybe been too long since I’ve gotten laid, because this contact is starting to get to me. And feeling her shudder, with sobs, against me shouldn’t be stirring…things.
Blissful silence descends inside the vehicle. Until it’s broken up by a metallic hum, and soft sound of something popping.
“Are you really making fucking popcorn right now?” Nero doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to since the increased popping replies for him. I sigh. “Do we have a crew nearby that can take care of a body?”
“If you’re in the city I can have guys there within thirty. Did anyone see you?”
“Other than my kidnap victim?” I deadpan. “No. No one saw me.”
He makes a grunt of approval that annoys me. Nero might kill more regularly than I do, but it’s not like I’ve forgotten how to do it.
“Do you need somewhere to take her?”
His question makes me grind my teeth. “No.” I’m not bringing this little beauty queen to one of our holding cells.
“Alright, then where are you headed?” The microwave beeps alerting that the time is up.
As I hesitate to answer, I feel Savannah tense under my hold.
“Home.”
