Page 14 of Betraying Family Vows
I wipe his blood from my face, but it just smears on my fingers and, I'm sure, my cheek.
As we walk past, I try not to look at the dead bodies. I've seen more in the last two minutes than I have in my entire life. Actually, I've only ever seen one dead body in real life, my mom's.
We get to the Audi, and Dimitri pushes me against the passenger side door.
"Keys," he demands.
"In the glove compartment."
He moves me to the side and opens the door. Then he grabs a fistful of my hair and shoves me inside toward the driver's seat. "You're driving."
I climb across and fall into the driver's seat, banging my knee on the center console. He lets go of my hair and slams his door shut.
"Asshole," I yell, rubbing my head.
He opens the glove box, pulls out the key fob, and presses the button to start the car.
"Drive," he says, jamming the gun into my ribs.
"Where?"
"Just drive. Away from here."
I put it in drive and ease out onto the main road.
"Faster," he says.
I slam my foot on the gas, throwing him back against his seat. The tires screech as we fly down the empty street.
"Careful," he warns, adjusting his grip on the gun.
"Sorry," I say, not sorry at all. "Wasn't that what you wanted? Speed?"
"Shut up and drive."
We drive in silence for a few moments, and I clench the steering wheel tightly, trying to hide the slight tremble in my hands.
We're on the outskirts of the city, in some industrial district I don't recognize. Warehouses and empty lots line the streets. No witnesses. No help.
Perfect place for a murder.
My heart hammers in my chest. I glance at him, at the blood drying on his ear and neck, at the ropes still hanging from his wrists like brutal jewelry.
How am I alone with him now? A killer who somehow managed to not only escape captivity, but kidnap me and slaughter anyone in our way, all while half-naked and drugged.
What the hell was I thinking? Who is this man, and why did I think I could do anything worth a damn to him, tied up or not?
"Take a right up here," he says, breaking the silence.
I do and instinctively ask, "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere we can talk properly." He adjusts in his seat, wincing slightly. "About why you decided kidnapping me was a good idea and how long I'll let you live."
"You're a fucking psycho, you know that?" I say, finding strength in the fear that is wrapping around me.
He stares at me for a moment and then lets out a sarcastic laugh. "You drugged me, tied me to a chair, lied to my face, and helped deliver me to men who were going to kill me, and I'm the psycho?"
I glance over at him. "Fuck you."
