Page 156 of The Vigilante's Lover
I’m not going to clue her in.
I’m bound in so many ways, I can’t get loose. But I’m not gagged. I can scream.
I can also kick at the dash. If Jovana gets out to pump gas, I’m pretty sure I can do some serious damage to this car while she’s outside. Maybe I can set off an alarm or even break the gearshift and make the car inoperable.
I have to try.
The gauge says five miles to empty. We’re on the outskirts of Knoxville. Maybe we’re heading somewhere within the range of the gas she has. I feel weary, unable to move in all the restraints, the ropes rubbing my upper arms even through the jacket.
We approach a station and this time Jovana slows down. My heart speeds up. We’re going to stop.
I try to avoid staring at her or looking anxious. I keep my eyes cast down on my lap. Still, I watch her from my peripheral vision.
She pulls up to the farthest pump so that I’m on the outside. Unless someone walks by, no one will notice me. Even so, before she gets out, she reaches into the backseat and snatches up the tarp that was on the car before we stole it.
And she covers me, head to toe.
I sneeze from the stirred-up dust. I can’t see anything now other than the glow of light through the fabric. Crap.
I hear her door open, then close. I listen carefully for the sound of the gas nozzle going into the tank. She’s outside and not paying attention to me.
I have to go for it.
I twist and lift my legs, trying to maneuver toward the center of the car. My feet swing up and I kick at the dash, hearing a satisfying crunch that might be the screen.
The ball that controls the dash is in the console, and I keep kicking, hoping I can break it off. My feet find the steering wheel, but that seems futile. At this awkward angle, I can’t get enough power in my legs to do anything to it.
But my foot does find the windshield-wiper lever and I kick until I hear it break off.
The door swings open.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jovana asks. Something closes around my ankle. I guess she’s trying to hold me.
I kick with all my might, pummeling my feet at her.
“You little bitch!” she says and lets go.
I think she’s retreated because I don’t connect with her anymore.
The door slams.
I’m alone in the car again. I jerk hard at the ropes, trying to get all the wiggle room I can muster to give me leverage to kick at the controls again. I hear another crunch.
Then I feel air.
My car door is open.
I still can’t see, but then the world is brighter as the tarp moves.
Maybe she’ll drag me out of the car and leave me here. I just have to be more trouble than I’m worth.
I jerk against the bonds, trying to free an elbow enough that I can get a shot at her.
Jovana grabs me. It’s not hard to keep me still since I’m mostly tied down anyway.
I feel a prick in my arm and something cold runs into my veins. I look down and see a needle withdrawing from my sleeve. She’s stabbed me blindly.
But the drug moves through me. My stomach turns, and I feel sick.
