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I sink into the cream-colored leather bucket seats with a grunt. I manage to swing my legs inside before she slams the door closed and runs around the front of the car.
The interior of the car is dark, only lit by the occasional flash of lightning outside. A couple partially-folded paper maps line the dashboard, but otherwise, it’s devoid of any personal touches. Before I have a chance to think about it further, she’s sliding into the passenger seat next to me.
"Before you think about driving me into a ditch, know that I’m the one saving your ass. Plus.” She opens the glove compartment, pulls out a handgun, and places it on her lap, finger resting next to the trigger. “I have this. And I promise you I can shoot you faster than you can crash my car.”
I swallow roughly as I look from the gun to the windshield. “Alright.”
She makes a noise in the back of her throat. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”
“You didn’t give me the keys.”
She leans forward, and my back snaps ramrod straight. I don’t know what’s wrong with me exactly, almost like my well of fear is nearly depleted or something. Because while I’m definitely afraid of her and what she’s capable of, I’m not nearly as fearful as I think I should be. Or maybe it’s because I’m behind the wheel, and there’s inherent control there.
She taps the end of the gun on the ignition. “It’s already in. Now move your ass, Hollywood. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
I lean over and reach out to turn the key, but instead of a plastic fob, my fingers wrap around the smooth handle of a screwdriver. My gaze slides to the woman in the passenger seat, surprise raising my brows.
“Problem?”
“Nah, no problem.” I twist the screwdriver handle, and the car sputters to life. I wait a second before I shift it into drive. "Where are we going?"
"East," she grunts. "We're going east."
As I begin to drive, the rain continues to pelt against the windshield in a rhythmic pattern that matches the uneasy beating of my heart. The woman beside me remains silent, her steely gaze fixed on the passenger side mirror, as if she’s making sure we’re not followed.
With each passing minute that we’re alone on the road, my adrenaline recedes. My fingers tremble and my goosebumps have goosebumps. I cautiously fiddle with the heat settings, adjusting it to a warmer temperature and angling one of the vents toward my face.
I clear my throat and steal a glance at her. ”Why did you hot-wire your own car?”
I think she might ignore me, but she sighs. "Because some asshole wouldn't give me my keys."
“But this is your car, right?” I press, turning left where she indicated.
She looks over her shoulder at me. “Would it matter?”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and weigh my response. “Not really, I guess.”
I feel her gaze roam over my face, like she’s trying to peer inside of me or something equally intense. My knuckles grip the steering wheel a little too tightly at her silence. The road stretches out ahead of us, winding through dense woods that seem to swallow us up as we drive deeper into the night.
After what feels like an eternity, she finally speaks. “Pull over.”
Alarm zips through me, sparking the dredges of adrenaline to life. There’s nothing here though, not even one of those paltry rest stops you see on the side of the roads.
“Why?”
She gestures to me with the gun. “Because your eyes have been drooping for the last thirty minutes, and I don’t feel like dying because you’re too tired to drive safely.”
My mouth falls open, surprise swallowing any reply. “Oh.” I ease the car onto the shoulder of the road, shifting it into park.
She pushes open her door and walks around the car, and I don’t give her an opportunity to leave me on the side of the road like some unwanted fast food bag, so I crawl over the center console.
She slides into the driver’s seat and smirks. “You’ve got two hours, then you’re driving again.”
My brows shoot up in surprise. It’s the most I’ve gotten out of her since we first got into the car. I can’t figure out a good enough reason not to stay in this car, and it seems safe enough. Definitely safer than the middle of nowhere, on the side of the road at night.
My eyelids feel heavy, and my body aches in places I didn’t know it could. So I give in to temptation, sinking into the seat and allowing myself to drift to sleep.
15
