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Studying the gash on her cheek, I decided it definitely needed to be cleaned, but it didn’t need stitches. I made the decision to wait to do that, because I needed to get the hell out of there.
I shoved the truck into reverse, driving backward for over ten yards before finding a spot wide enough to turn around without getting stuck.
Constantly, I checked on her, driving as fast as I could through the blizzard.
After ten minutes, her tremors calmed, and her color was beginning to even out.
Her eyes opened. Blinking, she looked at me.
“Who did that to your face?” I asked.
Confused, she blinked again, then brought her hand to her cheek. She winced at the touch.
“Who did that to you?” I repeated, my pulse picking up speed.
“I—I don’t know ...”
I wanted to slam my fist against the steering wheel.
Just give her a minute, my heart whispered.Don’t trust her, my head screamed.
I wanted to drive off a cliff.
Instead, I just drove.
* * *
It took ten minutes for Sophia’s body to warm and her pulse to return to normal. Alert, she kept turning in the seat, checking behind us.
“Don’t worry. They’re not coming after us.”
“They will.”
“Sophia, we have a lot to talk about. First, I want to know who hurt you.”
“The guy who kidnapped me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He had a ski mask on.”
“Tell me what happened.”
She swallowed hard. “I was walking down the road and someone came up behind me. When I realized they had stopped, I started to run, but they caught up with me. I tried to fight him, but he punched me. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the back seat of a truck. At first, I thought it was you. I don’t know why. Then everything came back to me.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“No, just knocked me out.”
“How did you get away from him?”
“When I woke up, I pretended that I was still out and took a second to get my bearings. There was only one guy in the truck, and I figured I had good odds to fight. So, I maced him.”
“Youmacedhim?”
“Yep. I had it in my pocket—I carry it in every pocket, actually. I have like twenty of them. They’re disguised as ink pens. I have them literally everywhere in my house and never leave without one on me.”
I remembered the stash of ballpoint pens hidden in her bookcase. “Then what?”
