Page 17 of Free

“What the fuck is your problem? You shot at us, bitch.”:

“Like I had a choice,” she says as she stands dazed next to her car.

“Who are you workin’ for?”

“Like I’d tell you.”

“You have two choices here. Walk away from this by tellin’ me what I want to know or die on the side of the road. Either way, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Street Kings.”

“The gang?” I ask. “What are you doin’ for them?”

“I just drive. The other guy was supposed to shoot and collect.”

“Then why the fuck are you shootin’?”

“Why not?” She snaps back at me. I’ve had enough of this. My cell is ringing in my pocket, probably one of the guys checking in on me. I have two choices here. Kill or let her go. Killing her seems the best option since she was shooting at us, but I don’t feel like killing a woman today. So, instead, I motion for the car.

“You got a rope?”

“In the trunk.”

“Get it out,” I order, motioning to the car once more. She walks over and pops her trunk, pulling the rope free before holding it out to me like she knows what this is.

“Don’t plan on fightin’ me?”

“I’d rather be alive,” she says as I take the rope with my bad arm. I wince at the pain, but this needs to be done so she isn’t shooting at anyone else.

I shove my gun into the back of my jeans and grab her wrists, tying them together with the rope. Once she’s tied up, I shove her back against her car and glance around. No one will see her off the road right here. It’s down a small embankment. It’s perfect.

“I could kill you.”

“You’re not going to.”

“You don’t think so?” I ask her as I wince from the pain in my arm. It hurts like a motherfucker.

“You’re in pain,” she says, nodding toward the hole in my arm.

“No shit. You shot me,” I remind her. She shrugs her shoulders like it’s no big deal to her. I step closer to her. She’s trying so hard to put up a front, but it isn’t working. I can see how she trembles the closer I get to her. And I step closer still to make my point.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it. Killin’ you. Lettin’ your friend come back and pick you up off the ground.”

“Then do it,” she urges, her voice shaking slightly. She’s scared, and I can see it in her eyes.

“I could, but I don’t like killin’ women.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“I could fuck you. No one would hear you scream.” Now she trembles. Her whole body shakes as she thinks about that. No one would hear her out here, and no one would see shit either. I could fuck her over the side of her car, but I’m not that kind of guy. I’m not a rapist.

“You’re sick,” she hisses at me, and I smile.

“You think so? You haven’t seen shit yet,” I tell her. I step closer and run the barrel of my gun down her neck and over her chest before pressing it into her chest.

“You think I’m sick?” I ask, pushing the gun a little harder into her chest. She gasps as she looks up at me but doesn’t say another word. That’s when I move it lower and lower until it’s resting between her legs. Then I kick her feet apart so she’s spread open for me. I use the barrel of the gun and slide it between her legs, rubbing her in all the right places. She bites her lips between her teeth as she glares at me.

“Don’t like it?” I ask her. She shakes her head, but I know she’s lying. She likes the hard steel between her thighs. She likes the friction, and I know it. “Don’t lie to me.”

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