that, and now she was suffering for
her careless meal preparation.
She'd driven forty-five
minutes away to ensure that she didn't run into anybody she knew
while buying the pregnancy test. Then, with the bag and receipt in
her hand, she'd suddenly decided that she had to know now , and so she found
herself in a Walgreens restroom, peeing on a stick.
When the test showed that she wasn't
pregnant, she'd cried with relief.
Then she'd cried with disappointment.
She certainly didn't want to have Aaron's
kid, and the test being negative was a one-hundred-percent good
thing. She was emotionally wrecked from all of the stress and
that's why she was crying like this. That's all it was. She'd had a
rough day.
On the way out of the store, she'd bought
some flowers to make herself feel better. Carnations. Even if
buying herself flowers was mildly pathetic, it did cheer her
up.
And then, while fueling up, a bunch of dogs
went berserk and she got stuck in a van with a couple of
mobsters.
If she believed in karma, she would've
thought that she was being punished for breaking Aaron's heart with
their ill-advised intercourse. Or that her habit of pulling on the
family dog Tin-Tin's tail when she was three had finally come back
to haunt her. But she didn't believe in that stuff, so it was just
bad luck. Wrong place at the wrong time.
She felt like she should be
siding with the guy in the cage, but he just seemed...well, evil . Instantly unlikable.
If Ivan approached her at a bar, she'd be creeped out and refuse to
touch any drinks he bought her. Though he obviously wasn't a
werewolf, he probably deserved to be locked up in there--she could
imagine him wandering the streets, offering lollipops to little
girls if they promised not to tell.
Of course, George and Lou were clearly not
kind-hearted, caring people, and she genuinely believed that they
might kill her if they felt backed into a corner. She could
definitely see them walking her out into the woods, apologizing
softly, then putting a bullet in the back of her head. They'd feel
awful about it, but they'd do what needed to be done.
Swearing not to tell anybody
wasn't going to work. Of course she'd tell. There was no possible way she wouldn't
run to the police and describe the two thugs in their black van,
and they knew it. They weren't going to simply let her
go.
But if they thought that she thought they had
a deal, there'd be no reason to come to their senses and kill her.
They could stop constantly worrying about her. And then she could
find an opportunity to escape. Now that they'd stopped the van,
maybe an opportunity was approaching.
And--she couldn't deny it--this was all kind
of exciting. A werewolf? Where was this going to lead?
George shut the passenger-side door of the
van and walked around to the back. She could jump out right now and
make a break for it.
No, too risky. She didn't want to get
shot.
But with George distracted by whatever he was
planning to do with Ivan, she'd definitely keep her eye on Lou.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Don't Mess With Wolves In Cages
George opened the rear doors of the van. Ivan
seemed to be trying very, very hard to look amused by the whole
situation.
"You know, you have to actually open up the
cage if you want to beat me with a tire iron," Ivan said. "Don't
get me wrong, I'm all in favor of you making a fatal mistake, but
that seems pretty extreme."
"I'm not opening the cage," said
George. He waited for a few moments, letting the tension build,
then took his pistol out of the holster.
"So you're going to shoot the cargo?"
"Question for you. How long do you think it
takes to bleed to death from a kneecap that was shattered by a
bullet?"
"No idea."
"More than three hours. So you'll still be
alive when we deliver you."
"Okay."
"How long do you think it takes to bleed to
death from two kneecaps that were shattered by bullets?"
"More than three hours?"
"Exactly. And where do you think is one of
the
her careless meal preparation.
She'd driven forty-five
minutes away to ensure that she didn't run into anybody she knew
while buying the pregnancy test. Then, with the bag and receipt in
her hand, she'd suddenly decided that she had to know now , and so she found
herself in a Walgreens restroom, peeing on a stick.
When the test showed that she wasn't
pregnant, she'd cried with relief.
Then she'd cried with disappointment.
She certainly didn't want to have Aaron's
kid, and the test being negative was a one-hundred-percent good
thing. She was emotionally wrecked from all of the stress and
that's why she was crying like this. That's all it was. She'd had a
rough day.
On the way out of the store, she'd bought
some flowers to make herself feel better. Carnations. Even if
buying herself flowers was mildly pathetic, it did cheer her
up.
And then, while fueling up, a bunch of dogs
went berserk and she got stuck in a van with a couple of
mobsters.
If she believed in karma, she would've
thought that she was being punished for breaking Aaron's heart with
their ill-advised intercourse. Or that her habit of pulling on the
family dog Tin-Tin's tail when she was three had finally come back
to haunt her. But she didn't believe in that stuff, so it was just
bad luck. Wrong place at the wrong time.
She felt like she should be
siding with the guy in the cage, but he just seemed...well, evil . Instantly unlikable.
If Ivan approached her at a bar, she'd be creeped out and refuse to
touch any drinks he bought her. Though he obviously wasn't a
werewolf, he probably deserved to be locked up in there--she could
imagine him wandering the streets, offering lollipops to little
girls if they promised not to tell.
Of course, George and Lou were clearly not
kind-hearted, caring people, and she genuinely believed that they
might kill her if they felt backed into a corner. She could
definitely see them walking her out into the woods, apologizing
softly, then putting a bullet in the back of her head. They'd feel
awful about it, but they'd do what needed to be done.
Swearing not to tell anybody
wasn't going to work. Of course she'd tell. There was no possible way she wouldn't
run to the police and describe the two thugs in their black van,
and they knew it. They weren't going to simply let her
go.
But if they thought that she thought they had
a deal, there'd be no reason to come to their senses and kill her.
They could stop constantly worrying about her. And then she could
find an opportunity to escape. Now that they'd stopped the van,
maybe an opportunity was approaching.
And--she couldn't deny it--this was all kind
of exciting. A werewolf? Where was this going to lead?
George shut the passenger-side door of the
van and walked around to the back. She could jump out right now and
make a break for it.
No, too risky. She didn't want to get
shot.
But with George distracted by whatever he was
planning to do with Ivan, she'd definitely keep her eye on Lou.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Don't Mess With Wolves In Cages
George opened the rear doors of the van. Ivan
seemed to be trying very, very hard to look amused by the whole
situation.
"You know, you have to actually open up the
cage if you want to beat me with a tire iron," Ivan said. "Don't
get me wrong, I'm all in favor of you making a fatal mistake, but
that seems pretty extreme."
"I'm not opening the cage," said
George. He waited for a few moments, letting the tension build,
then took his pistol out of the holster.
"So you're going to shoot the cargo?"
"Question for you. How long do you think it
takes to bleed to death from a kneecap that was shattered by a
bullet?"
"No idea."
"More than three hours. So you'll still be
alive when we deliver you."
"Okay."
"How long do you think it takes to bleed to
death from two kneecaps that were shattered by bullets?"
"More than three hours?"
"Exactly. And where do you think is one of
the
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