I wasn't even sure what she meant. And already, we were leaving the mall parking lot. The driver took a right, fishtailing on the slick road, as we headed not toward the city, but toward the rural area surrounding it.
It was the same road I'd taken to reach the mall –andthe same road I would've taken to return to Mason's, if only I'd been the one driving.
Already, the SUV was sliding all over the place, making me wonder how long we'd even stay on the road.
Not long at this rate.
And now I didn't know what to do. I wasn't even buckled up.Should I buckle up?
It would be a whole lot safer. And yet, that felt way too permanent for my liking, as if I were settling in for a long haul.
Just then, something buzzed in the front seat.My cellphone.Ithadto be.
Sure enough, the masked female shifted in her seat and then pulled out my purse from underneath her backside.
I watched in growing indignation as she started rummaging through it.
"Hey!" I yelled. "That’s mine."
"Not anymore, it's not."
With a sound of defiance, I lunged forward and grabbed for it, only to have her yank it further out of my reach.
The driver yelled, "Ditch it!"
I turned to look. "What?"
Just then, the passenger's side window slid down.Hisdoing, nothers.He looked to his companion and yelled again. "What are you waiting for?"
"Fine," she muttered and tossed my purse straight out the window.
I whirled in my seat, hoping to see where it landed. But all I saw was swirling snow.
I turned back to the front and yelled, "What'd you dothatfor?"
The guy replied, "Because I'm not a dumb-ass, that's why."
"Well, you can't be too smart," I said, "because you're gonna be in big trouble." My words sounded hollow, even to my own ears. Probably, I should've jumped out when I had the chance.
Who was the dumb-ass now?
Me, apparently.
In the front seat, the guy said, "Get real. Who's gonna catch us?" And with that, he hit the button to shift the car into four-wheel drive. Immediately, the vehicle gained a smidgen of stability.
I asked, "When you're done driving, are you gonna give me the car back?"
The guy replied, "It depends."
"On what?"
He lifted his hand and jerked a thumb vaguely toward the passenger. "It's up to her."
I sputtered, "Wait, why is it up to her?"
The female turned to me and said, "Well, it sure as hell isn't up to you."
The words had barely left her lips when I spotted an oncoming car, the first one we'd seen for at least a mile or two. I groaned, "Oh, my God." And then, I hollered out, "Seriously, stop!"
