Nausea rolled in her stomach and Jenna shoved again to her feet, backing away from the truck.I did that.It had been self-defense, and it wasn’t fatal, but it would sure as shit leave a scar. The problem was, she would have to do worse to make him stop.
Jenna swallowed hard, holding the keys so tightly she could feel them biting into her palm. “Just leave us alone,” she pleaded, though she knew it was futile.
He made a mangled scoffing sound and hooked a leg over the tailgate with the obvious intent to pursue her.
The instant she saw he was committed to the move, Jenna sprang to the side, running full-tilt for the driver’s door. It wasn’t exactly far, and she didn’t know off-hand which key she would need if she managed to get inside.Please be obvious!
“Bitch!”
Please, please be obvious!She yanked the metal door open and did her best to leap inside, simultaneously trying to eye the logos on the keys. She spotted the motor company insignia at the base of the bloodied key, because of course it was the bloody key, at the same moment her assailant grabbed hold of her ankle.
Jenna let out a scream and kicked wildly. “Let go! Get off!”
Her assailant had resorted to cussing her out in Spanish as he attempted to catch and keep hold of her legs in a very messed up version of whack-a-mole. Jenna jammed an elbow into the horn of the steering wheel as she fought to keep herself from his reach, managed to clip him pretty well in one shoulder, and in the process gained herself a couple more inches of leverage. Shefinally dropped her phone into the belted-in makeshift center console and latched her freed-up hand onto the back of the bench seat for a better grip.
He caught hold of her pant leg.
Lynnette’s purse, forgotten in the passenger seat, toppled over.
Jenna cried out again, nearly cracking her chin on the console when the bastard tugged. She swung both legs with blind, reckless abandon and was pretty sure it wasn’t her imagination when something sharp bit the back of her calf. But he released her again, and she put her all into diving for the purse.
There was no way in hell she’d be able to get the truck started and moving before the asshole could hurt her, but she might not need to. Lynnette had told her, a while back, that the crazy hours and dark roads and sometimes sketchy people she met had all prompted her to start keeping bear spray handy. She’d shrugged it off with the rationale that a girl could never be too safe, especially on isolated roads.
When Jenna’s fingers closed around the canister, she breathed a wordless thank you to her friend’s learned sense of caution. Then she twisted in place, already feeling fingers at her ankle again, and locked eyes with the enraged asshole whose face she’d mangled. “Fuck you,” she said, throwing herself upright enough to be sure she didn’t miss when she depressed the trigger.
She watched his eyes widen. Felt his grip go lax. Saw his bloodied lips part with what she assumed was another crude remark. But it was already too late.
The bear spray shot outward, colliding directly with his wide-eyed, gaping, bleeding face.
Jenna kept squeezing as he dropped his knife and stumbled backward, until he’d hit his knees and turned entirely out of range. Then she let go, lips clamped shut, and hurried to snap the door closed. Her eyes stung, there was no way around it,and she could feel her throat burning. But she’d only gotten the backspray, or backlash, whatever.
She slammed the lock on her door and finally reached for the keys again.
It took her a moment to hear the disconnected, garbled voice shouting her name.
“Jenna!”
Jon.She hadn’t even checked to see if the call was still active, she’d just hoped.
Taking the largest breath she dared, Jenna rolled the engine over, dropped the bear spray into a cupholder, and quickly put the call on speaker. “Jon,” she said. Her voice came out choked.Shit.
She still managed to scream when the passenger door swung open and nearly fumbled the spray right onto the floorboard in her haste to pick it up.
“Whoa! It’s me!” Lynnette said, half in the cab. “I just beat the shit out of two guys and have like ten seconds before the third gets back around, please don’t spray me. Nice thinking, though.”
Jenna blew out a breath and lowered the spray.
Lynnette dropped into her seat, shoving her purse to the floor and slamming her door shut.
“Jenna, fucking answer me,” Jon said, his voice clearer on speaker.
Lynnette jumped before her whole head angled down to the phone. “Is that your boyfriend?”
Jenna gave her the best mortified look she could manage with her rapidly watering eyes and forced herself to squeak out, “I kind of sprayed myself.”
Lynnette cringed. “Yeah, you shouldn’t be driving. Switch with me.”
“What the fuck is going on? Lynnette, right? Is she hurt?”
