“Minimizing the consequences.”
Rossi stops, turning towards me with a bewildered expression, so I do the most conspicuous thing I can think of—I run. I dart towards the front doors.
“Ma’am? Sir?” the receptionist calls in her high, girlish voice after Rossi.
I know he’s behind me—I can hear his heavy footfalls. But I’m out the door, almost to the parking lot. Maybe I’ll be able to beat him to the street…
I feel a grip around my hair, just as my foot hits the asphalt. He yanks me back, painfully, and it brings tears to my eyes. I yelp.
“Well, well, well. Eleanor Wilson,” Rossi mutters into my ear. He gives a sharp tug that draws another pained cry from my lips. “Isn’t it just my lucky fucking day.”
“No!”Mac roars, and I swear I hear it in stereo, in my earpiece and muffled in the night air, from the inside of a car around the back of the building.
“Sir? What are you—Oh my God. Let her go! I’m calling the police!” It’s the scared teenage receptionist—my hero.
“Don’t hurt me!” I breathe between gulping inhales, labored from the fear and exercise. I reach back to hold on, trying to relieve the burning pain in my scalp. “Ah! I… I know where the guns are!”
“Do you?” he growls, his tone all at once condescending and cruel.
“I’ll tell you—”
“No, you’ll show me.” He shoves me forward, using his grip in my hair, ripping some of it clean out of my skull as I struggle to maintain my balance. His car is the first one parked on the left, a handicapped spot. He opens the driver’s door and shoves me in.
“I will fucking shoot you if you run.”
He slams the door and hustles around to the passenger’s side. When he sits in the seat, he’s pointing a gun right at me.
My body erupts in chills of déjà vu. I back up in the seat, putting some distance between me and the barrel. My whole body starts to shake with cold fear.
Rossi waves the gun at me. “Hands on the wheel, foot on the brake. Quickly.” As I comply, he sticks the key into the ignition and shifts the car into gear. “Drive.”
“Eleanor, stay calm. Just do what he says. I’ll tell you how to get to the warehouse,”comes Wesley’s soothing voice. I’ve never been so glad to hear anyone’s voice in all my life. I’m not alone. They’re going to be here with me the whole time.
I have to stop myself from nodding along in understanding. Rossi can’t know about the earpiece. Luckily, it’s on my left side.
“I’m going to fucking kill him, I’m shooting him from here—”
“Mac, no! Witnesses!”This time, Wesley’s voice is a bit more frantic.
A tear slips down my cheek and I start the car. I feel even more helpless, hearing his helplessness.
“Then I’ll run him off the road.”
“James, she is the one driving,”Dimitri reminds. “If Rossi thinks you are following him, he may harm her.”
Bile climbs in the back of my throat. I whimper.
“Take it offline, you’re distracting her,”Wesley snaps. Then, his tone lowers back to that calm, 911-dispatcher level.“Turn left out of the lot, love.”
“What’s the address?” Rossi barks at me, grabbing his phone from his pocket.
I repeat after Wesley.
From the corner of my eye, I see Rossi pull it up in his maps app, then look at the place in street view. “A warehouse. Should have known… If you go anywhere other than here, I’ll shoot you. If you drive any speed other than the fucking limit, Iwill shoot you. If you try to get the attention of any cops or other cars… you get the deal, right?”
I swallow and nod. I come to a stop at a light. “C-can I put on my seatbelt?” Just in case we get rammed by a mustang…
“No,” he says quickly. “In fact…” He leans forward in his seat and drops the glove box door. As he rifles around, I see papers, a gun, a length of rope and a knife… your standard bad-guy car emergency kit. He pulls out the roll of duct tape. “Hands together at the top.”