Page 137 of College Town
Ray doesn’t respond.
“Do you…” Lawson turns his head, and meets the barrel of a gun.
Behind it, Ray smiles. “Sorry about this, man, but I’m gonna need you to take the next right.”
~*~
Lawson looks from the cold, black eye of the gun, to Ray, then back, then back again, trying to rectify what he’s seeing. There’s only one explanation, though.
“Son of a bitch.”
The gun stays fixed, and Ray tips his head toward the windshield. “The light changed. Go. And hang a right.”
Lawson sits a minute, long enough that the car behind him honks, acutely aware of the gun pointed at the side of his head. What happens if he refuses to comply? If he continues to sit here, or throws open his door and rolls out into the street.
Well, logic would dictate that Ray will shoot him.
He likely won’t shoot him if Lawson’s actively driving, because then he’d crash, and Ray would go through the windshield since he’s not wearing his seatbelt.
Lawson’s mind latches onto the knowledge:he’s not wearing his seatbelt. Okay. Okay, maybe he can work with this. He gives himself a little pat on the back for having such a practical thought while his body is flooding with panic and adrenaline.
“Drive,” Ray says.
He’s unarmed, and he doesn’t want to die, and even if complying with a captor doesn’t historically yield success, Lawson doesn’t have another option.
He drives. Lets out a shaky breath and hangs a right.
“So,” he says, conversationally, heart in his throat. “You’re a traitor.”
“Everybody’s somebody’s traitor.”
“Philosophical.”
“It’s not personal, you understand. Left up here.”
Lawson slows and hits his turn signal.
“But I need Tom to sit up and listen, and at this point, everybody knows he’s only gonna do that for you.”
“Aw. That makes me feel so special.” His pulse is so haywire he worries he might pass out, and then they’re definitely going to crash, gunshot or no. “Does that mean you’re not going to kill me?”
Ray only hums.
“Where are we going?”
“Turn right at the next light.”
“Is this a ransom situation? Are you going to put me on the phone for proof of life or some shit?”
Ray chuckles. “You’re lucky I’m the one Tom left behind. Paul woulda put you in the trunk.”
Paul, too, huh?Christ. How many? he wonders. How many of Tommy’s people are working against him? Is Natalia? Iseveryonebut Frank and Noah, his blood relatives?
Lawson takes a right at the next light as instructed, and then he knows where they’re going, without being instructed through the next two turns. Traffic peters out, and they’re the only ones on the winding, two-lane road with its blind curves and double-yellow line.
Lawson eases his foot off the gas.
“Turn left up ahead at that old rusted-out sign,” Ray says, and instead, Lawson lets the car cruise to a slow halt. The Town Car noses up behind them, and flashes its lights, questioning the stop.
