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“Relax, we’re just taking a little detour.”
I’m the opposite of relaxed. I’m freaking out. Jase has my phone and my wallet, not that either would save me from these two guys, who are clearly up to no good.
“Just let me out here. My friend lives a few blocks from here.”
“Don’t be silly, we’ll take good care of you,” Karl coos.
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
Both goons chuckle, the sound sending creepy shivers down my spine.
I don’t buckle up, planning to jump out of the car as soon as we slow down enough. When we approach a traffic light, I say a silent prayer for it to turn red. I stare at the green light, using my willpower alone to turn it red.
Green.
Still green.
Come on, come on…
Yellow.
Yes!
Red.
“Slow down. It’s red!” I yell from the back seat, but Dave runs the red light as if he didn’t see it at all.
Slumping down in my seat, I cross my arms in front of my chest, trying my best to hold myself together—both physically and mentally.
I run the city map through my mind, trying to think of places where they would be forced to stop. When I come up empty, I get more worried.
We’re almost out of the city, and my chances of escaping dwindle dramatically. I play around with the idea of jumping out while the car is moving. How bad could I hurt myself?
My hand is already on the handle, just waiting for the right time when the unmistakable sound of a police siren wails behind us.
“Fucking shit!”
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at the silver Challenger with a single red siren on the roof. The sun is hitting the windshield to where I can’t look inside. I wish I could see the person behind the wheel. I could make eye contact and convey that I’m in trouble. With the glare in the way, I can’t even tell if the person can see me at all.
“Why is he pulling us over?” Karl questions.
“I don’t fucking know,” Dave spits. His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “I do know that if you don’t play along, I’m going to kill you and your brother. Understood?”
“Loud and clear.” I nod.
“Don’t even look at the cop,” he orders, slowing the car down before pulling into the closest parking lot. The cop follows, taking the spot behind us. I’ve never been so relieved to be pulled over.
I keep my head facing forward, but in the rearview mirror, I watch the cop get out of the car. He is a tall, well-built guy in civilian clothes with a gun and a badge visible on his belt.
Dave rolls down his window, greeting the cop casually as he approaches with his hand resting on his gun. “Good day, officer. How are you doing today?”
“It would be better if I didn’t have to pull your sorry ass over for running a red light.”
“R-red light? What? I must have completely missed that,” Dave exaggerates everything he says. “I’m so sorry, officer. It will never happen again.”
“Why don’t you get out of the car and put your hands behind your back?”
“Officer, none of that will be necessary. I have my license and registration right here.”
