“An app on their phone.”
He leaned over, pushing her legs toward the console so he could get into the glove compartment. His forearm rubbed against her breasts. She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut.
“What is wrong with you, lady?”
She didn’t say a word.
“Listen carefully because I’m not going to repeat this…I’m not going to rape you. For one thing, I’m not a rapist. For another, you’re not my type, so you have nothing to worry about in that regard. Got it?”
Her lips trembled. Tears were flowing now. She didn’t want to die.
He rifled through the junk in the compartment, then held up the map he found.
“Are you crying?”
She tried to stop, but she couldn’t, not with him yelling at her.
“Rob said you weren’t the emotional type. So, could you do me a favor and summon that undemonstrative side of yourself?”
“Excuse me?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She used her sleeve to wipe her nose. “What are you talking about? How do you know Rob?”
“Never mind.” With map in hand, he slammed the passenger door shut, and then walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in.
It took him a moment to get the seat back far enough for his legs to fit, but he managed.
“How do you know Rob?” she repeated. “Who are you?”
He put the key in the ignition and tried to start the engine. Nothing. “Rob called your cell phone and left you a message,” he told her.
“You listened to my messages?”
“Do you want to hear what he said, or not?”
“Where’s my phone?”
“I tossed it.”
“You bastard.”
“That’s it. You’re going inside the trunk.” He started to climb out.
“No. I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough week. Just tell me what he said.”
“I already told you. He said something about you not being emotional, and he knew you were probably fine, but he was worried because you had yet to return his call.”
She visibly shuddered. “Anything else?”
He turned the key again. “He said happy birthday.”
“What an asshole.”
“That’s what I thought.”
The motor sputtered and spit.
“You have to work the gas pedal,” she told him as she dried her eyes.
He tried again. Nothing.
“You’re not doing it right. You have to pump the pedal harder and faster.”
He stopped what he was doing and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I can take it from here.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t hear the—“
The engine roared to life before she could finish her sentence, leaving her to inwardly berate herself for telling him how to start the car in the first place. What was she thinking?
He studied the map while she studied his profile. “I wish you hadn’t tossed my phone.”
He ignored her.
“What did you do to end up in prison?”
He said nothing.
“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”
“No more questions. I need a change of clothes and some shoes. Any suggestions?”
If she could get him to take her home, she might be able to escape. “If you take me to my apartment, there’s a cashmere sweater you can have and whatever else the jerk left in my closet.”
“Are we the same size?”
“Who?”
“Me and lover boy.”
She refused to look at him. “I’m sure his clothes will fit you.”
“What about your neighbors?”
“Most of them work during the day,” she lied. “My place is only a few minutes from here.”
“Okay. We’re going to your apartment. I’ll cut your bindings when we get there but if you pull any tricks, someone’s going to get hurt.”
A long list of ideas ran through her head. Once he undid the tape, she could make a run for it. But where would she go? There wasn’t much on River Street. Maybe she should wait until they were inside the apartment. While he changed his clothes, she could call 911 from her roommate’s bedroom or the kitchen. Or, as soon as they got to her apartment door, she could scream. The neighbor in 313 came over whenever she and her roommate played loud music or had a few friends over. Surely, the busybody would hear her if she cried out.
“Make a left onto Spring Street,” she told him. “At the traffic circle take the first exit onto Main Street.”
It only took five minutes to arrive at her apartment building on River Street. He used the scalpel to cut the tape, then made quick work of getting her out of the car and up to her apartment door.
She was nervous and confused and the seconds flew by. The woman in 313 always shut her blinds when she went out for the day. Damn. She wasn’t home. Before she could decide what to do, she was sitting on the edge of her bed while he taped her ankles to the footboard.
“I’m not going to run, I promise. And I still don’t understand why you’re going to all the trouble of taking me with you unless you’re a killer.”
“I’m not a killer,” he told her. “If I was I would have taken you out at the morgue.”