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I feel his eyes on me.

I wait, counting silently, then open my eyes.

His attention is on the road.

My heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest.

He thinks I'm still unconscious.

That's useful.

I rotate my wrist again. Pain shoots through my thumb. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from reacting.

Come on.

Come on.

The rope gives another fraction.

I could keep pretending. Maybe get completely free before he realizes I'm awake. Except I don't know where he's taking me. Or how long it'll take to get there. Or what's waiting when we arrive.

I need him looking at my face. Not my hands.

I let out a groan.

Mercer's eyes immediately find me in the mirror.

I blink slowly. “Where...” My voice sounds terrible. “Where am I?”

He doesn't answer.

I push myself upright. The world tilts violently. “Oh, fuck.”

I fall against the door. That part isn't acting.

I close my eyes until the vehicle stops spinning.

“Sit back.”

I open them.

Mercer is watching me in the mirror.

“Stop ordering me around, creepy guy who lurks around women’s bathrooms.”

His eyebrows pull together.

I shift against the seat, hiding my bound hands behind me.

“You know that's generally frowned upon, right?”

Nothing.

His eyes return to the road.

Keep talking. Keep him distracted.

I twist my wrist. The rope moves. “Where are we going?”