she didn’t know the city. And she was a mediocre driver at best, not equipped for armed pursuit. But she had no choice.
When he just stood there in drug-induced stupor, she dragged him toward the passenger side and shoved him in unceremoniously, slammed the door behind him before sprinting to her side. Then she remembered the stick shift. Why, oh why?
“I can only drive automatic,” she yelled at him as if it was all his fault.
What were the pedals? Clutch, break, gas, if she remembered correctly. A high school boyfriend had spent some time coaching her on his pickup a million years ago, but it had turned out to be a brief relationship and she hadn’t paid much attention to the driving lessons in any case, not when they were just a distraction between make-out sessions.
And make-out sessions they were, nothing more. She’d been a good girl all through high school, petrified that she’d get pregnant and would end up alone with a child. Her number-one goal had been avoiding becoming like her mother. She’d never slept with a man unless they were in a committed relationship, of which she’d had two. Then came those few irresponsible days with Aziz. And they had used protection. Not that it mattered. Fate sure had a way of laughing in her face.
She was going to have a baby.
If she stayed alive long enough.
Through some miracle, she managed to put the car in first gear. Karim had backed into his parking spot, so at least she didn’t have to worry about backing out. Okay, which way? Most of the signs were in Arabic. She almost cried in relief when she spotted an old-fashioned English exit sign, a lit red box with white letters. Thank God for international hotel chains.
The first gear took her to the exit just fine. Then she stalled when trying to shift to second. She needed to start up the damn car all over again. She winced as the engine whined. She’d never driven a car this nice before, a silver BMW with more power than she was comfortable with. She really didn’t want to break it. Then she thought, to hell with it, Karim’s fancy car was the least of their problems.
She didn’t dare look in the rearview mirror to see if the bad guy was behind them or not. She focused her full attention on the shift and clutch.
The shot Karim fired through the back window and the responding gunfire the next second tipped her off to the severity of their situation. They were sitting ducks unless she managed to get the car moving.
She got it into first gear again and moved up to the gate that opened on its own, no card required to get out. Thank God, because she had no idea where her parking pass was at this stage. She passed through and stepped on the gas, and with some grinding of the gears switched the transmission into second. They were out on the boulevard at last.
“Clutch. Shift. Now,” Karim instructed.
Third gear slid into place with nothing but a small hiccup. Fourth. Good, really good.
Except that someone cut in front of her and she needed to slow, but knew that shifting down would make her stall all over again. She kept her foot steady on the gas pedal instead, and yanked the steering wheel to the right, going around the car in front of her, causing a minor disturbance on the road, and a flurry of beeping horns.
But the car was still moving. Yippee .
If her lips weren’t frozen in a tight line of concentration, she might have smiled. The small burst of relief vanished soon enough.
“Where are we going?” She weaved through traffic, taking unnecessary chances just to keep a steady pace so she wouldn’t have to shift.
He took a long time to answer. “Aziz’s palace. Left at the next light, right, then left again.” A long pause followed. “Blue.” Was he still talking about the palace?
She caught a green light, thankfully, sailing through, barely slowing to make the turn. The tires squealed in protest. “Which right, the next right?”
When no response came, she risked taking her eyes off the
When he just stood there in drug-induced stupor, she dragged him toward the passenger side and shoved him in unceremoniously, slammed the door behind him before sprinting to her side. Then she remembered the stick shift. Why, oh why?
“I can only drive automatic,” she yelled at him as if it was all his fault.
What were the pedals? Clutch, break, gas, if she remembered correctly. A high school boyfriend had spent some time coaching her on his pickup a million years ago, but it had turned out to be a brief relationship and she hadn’t paid much attention to the driving lessons in any case, not when they were just a distraction between make-out sessions.
And make-out sessions they were, nothing more. She’d been a good girl all through high school, petrified that she’d get pregnant and would end up alone with a child. Her number-one goal had been avoiding becoming like her mother. She’d never slept with a man unless they were in a committed relationship, of which she’d had two. Then came those few irresponsible days with Aziz. And they had used protection. Not that it mattered. Fate sure had a way of laughing in her face.
She was going to have a baby.
If she stayed alive long enough.
Through some miracle, she managed to put the car in first gear. Karim had backed into his parking spot, so at least she didn’t have to worry about backing out. Okay, which way? Most of the signs were in Arabic. She almost cried in relief when she spotted an old-fashioned English exit sign, a lit red box with white letters. Thank God for international hotel chains.
The first gear took her to the exit just fine. Then she stalled when trying to shift to second. She needed to start up the damn car all over again. She winced as the engine whined. She’d never driven a car this nice before, a silver BMW with more power than she was comfortable with. She really didn’t want to break it. Then she thought, to hell with it, Karim’s fancy car was the least of their problems.
She didn’t dare look in the rearview mirror to see if the bad guy was behind them or not. She focused her full attention on the shift and clutch.
The shot Karim fired through the back window and the responding gunfire the next second tipped her off to the severity of their situation. They were sitting ducks unless she managed to get the car moving.
She got it into first gear again and moved up to the gate that opened on its own, no card required to get out. Thank God, because she had no idea where her parking pass was at this stage. She passed through and stepped on the gas, and with some grinding of the gears switched the transmission into second. They were out on the boulevard at last.
“Clutch. Shift. Now,” Karim instructed.
Third gear slid into place with nothing but a small hiccup. Fourth. Good, really good.
Except that someone cut in front of her and she needed to slow, but knew that shifting down would make her stall all over again. She kept her foot steady on the gas pedal instead, and yanked the steering wheel to the right, going around the car in front of her, causing a minor disturbance on the road, and a flurry of beeping horns.
But the car was still moving. Yippee .
If her lips weren’t frozen in a tight line of concentration, she might have smiled. The small burst of relief vanished soon enough.
“Where are we going?” She weaved through traffic, taking unnecessary chances just to keep a steady pace so she wouldn’t have to shift.
He took a long time to answer. “Aziz’s palace. Left at the next light, right, then left again.” A long pause followed. “Blue.” Was he still talking about the palace?
She caught a green light, thankfully, sailing through, barely slowing to make the turn. The tires squealed in protest. “Which right, the next right?”
When no response came, she risked taking her eyes off the
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