“I know she is, Rick. Now fuck off. We’re done here.”
The man rounded his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “Fine. Next time, it’ll be seven grand for the lend of my truck.” His lips tightened and he scampered off.
Carl’s cold gaze instantly brightened when he turned to face Lana and waggled the keyrings attached to the truck key.
“Come on!” He bobbed his head sideward. “Your carriage awaits,” he shouted.
* * *
An automatic clunkreleased the locking system inside the car. Fumbling with the inside handle, she shunted the car door open, swung her legs out and rolled herself out.
There were a few drivers in the distance but too far to notice her bound wrists. She paused, waiting for an escape plan to drop from the heavens.
“Lana?” Carl called over to her with a wily look on his face.
The thought of joining him was like willingly slipping into her own coffin. With a sudden surge of adrenaline, she jerked forward and bolted a few steps across the concrete yard.
The idea was to run anywhere other than by his side. One second she was running and the next she was flat on her face with his body on top. Her head cracked against the ground and she lay under his crushing weight, motionless.
She floated in a dreamy haze as he carried her to the truck and propped her up at the wheel.
He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes searching hers. “Don’t run from this, Lana.” His smile dropped. “This is meant to be an adventure, sweetheart. Don’t be a bitch, I won’t take any more of this nonsense from you, okay?” His palm slammed the door behind her head. “Get in the fucking cab.” His tone hardened.
“I don’t want to go with you!” she snarled. “HELP…” Her strangled yell muffled behind his fingers when he slapped his hand over her mouth.
“Fuck sake, Lana.” His fingers dug into her cheeks. “Shout one more fucking time and so help me…I’ll…” A blaze of anger flickered in his cold eyes.
He momentarily held his breath and released it gradually. As if a switch had clicked in his brain, Carl gently tapped the tip of her nose with his finger.
“Come on, sweetheart. Everything will be okay. We’ll be good together.” His handsome smile didn’t melt her heart—it gripped it in a choke hold instead.
Her stomach churned queasily and her brain shook. With short sweeps, he brushed the swollen bump on the side of her head.
She stiffened, repulsed by his show of affection.
His arms fell away and his tongue clucked. “Get in.” He yanked open the hefty door. “I’m going to give you something that will keep you quiet for our boat journey. I’ll go ahead and give you it now, so I can park your car away from the lorry.” After forcing her inside the truck and hauling himself in behind, he pulled out a sheathed syringe from the glove box which had been left as per his request.
Flicking off the cover, he squeezed the plunger to release a squirt of liquid. Lana jerked to the side, adrenaline taking over. Carl missed her by inches.
“Sit still, Lana! I warned you not to fight me!” he growled.
Lana twisted around and pulled her knees up so the soles of her feet were a barrier.
“I swear, Lana, you’re testing my patience. Put your fucking legs down before I break every one of your toes.” He reached out and pinched her baby toe, inching it backwards. “Lower them, now,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
The pain shot up her foot with his continued pressure, yet she kept them in place, blocking his advance. The calmness that once lived in his eyes vanished into darkness.
“You stupid bitch,” he spat. Shoving her knees sideward, he clambered over her. She butted her hips and writhed under his weight. “Shhhh, little Lana.” His harsh tone faded. Carl puckered his lips and planted a kiss on her nose. “You just need to give us time. There’s loads of girls who would love to be in your position.”
“Carl, this isn’t right. Please, if you feel anything for me, let me go. We can work on this together, without all this?” She tried to move her wrists under his weight. “Please…”
“No, Lana. This is the only way for me to get what I want.”
Her chin wobbled. She couldn’t move, she was trapped under his oppressive weight. Her gaze flicked to the mini boxing gloves that hung from the visor, swaying gently after her struggle.
The needle punctured her flesh like a wasp sting and it didn’t take long for the drug to poison her blood, again. Tiny tingles prickled her skin, dulling her reactions.
As the seconds ticked on, moving was no longer an option, her body was unresponsive. The ability to fight slithered away, with hope riding its back.