Eyes darting around the car, she tried the door first. She yanked on the handle.
As if I hadn’t expected that and put the child lock in place.
She wasn’t thinking.
She was being rash.
Reckless.
Like a silly girl who couldn’t see what was happening all around her, she was focused on what she thought was her prize.
“Max, please.” Her breathing grew shallow as her panic crept in slowly. “Please, stop the car. I?—”
“Can’t do that.”
I took a sharp turn.
Her eyes flew wide, and hands braced on the dashboard. “Max, please!”
And I felt for her, honestly.
These winding roads at such a fast speed would scare anyone. Given her trauma, that fear was bound to be intense. Triggering, even.
Did Ienjoytaking it this far? No.
It didn’t have to be like this. I didn’t want this.
And she’d left me no choice.
So, would I do it anyway?
If it was the only way she’d listen…
So be it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
All the air rushed from my lungs. “Holy shit.”
Max sighed. “Oh, relax.”
“Holy shit. I can’t—” I fidgeted, practically vibrating with the urge to run from the car. “This is bad. This is so, so bad.”
Another sigh assured me Max didn’t share my feelings. “You’re being dramatic.”
“That’s easy for you to say!” I hissed at him. “You’re not the one in handcuffs!”
He smirked, huffing a laugh and leaning back against the side of the car. “Not my fault.”
“Yes, it is!” I whisper-shouted at him, my voice rising as anxiety slowly shifted to panic. “It’s absolutely your fault for working out so much your wrists don’t fit standard handcuffs, you—Ugh! You big brute!”
With a shrug, he turned his attention to the police cruiser parked behind us. I kept my face firmly turned away.
Even with the flashing red and blue lights turned off now, the last time I’d been near a police car, interacting with an officer, was the night of my dad’s accident.
I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned.
Every move I made twisted the cuffs, digging the metal into the sensitive skin of my wrists.
