Lost in Salvation

6. Pistol Whipped

Lorelei

I nearly choke on my next exhale.

"What?" I sputter, facing the direction where Kenzo's voice has been coming from.

"I don't like repeating myself. Turn around and face the window on the other side," I can tell he means what he's saying.

No. No way. He is not blindfolding me.

"Why would I do that?" I counter, eyes glaring at anything they can track.

"Look, it's not like I'm asking you to break a leg. I'll even be nice about it," I can hear the mocking tone from a mile away and I scowl.

"Is this so I won't see you? Because if what you said earlier is true, I'll see your face at some point."

A car honks from behind the van, probably angry we're still parked in the center of the carport.

Kenzo groans from the driver's seat. "Turning around has to do with that, yes. But the blindfold is because I've been instructed not to show you where we're going," I don't miss the way he conveniently dismisses the part about me seeing his face eventually. 

"Instructed by whom?" I huff, confused.

Although, I have one huge guess.

The other car honks again, longer this time, and I enthusiastically throw my middle finger at the window, hoping with all my might the jackass sees it.

The sound of a fist banging on the dashboard turns my face back to the divider. "Lorelei, we don't have time for your bullshit!"

That's the first time he's called me by my name. Interesting.

"My bullshit?" Oh Kenzo is two seconds away from seeing my bad side. "You're trying to blindfold me. You could be a murderer for all I know,"

He scoffs but there's a tinge of that playful light from before. "If I was trying to murder you, I would have definitely killed your ass by now."

"Oh it's because I'm being difficult isn't it?" I roll my eyes, adding some air quotes to "difficult" just to be dramatic. "Who's the one scared of letting the little girl see his face?" Describing myself as a "little girl'' makes me want to gag. "Are you super ugly or something? Is the big, bad kidnapper insecure?" I know I'm rambling at this point but my first encounter with my possible new housemate isn't going too well.

And if there's anything you should know about me, I voice when shit ain't right.

There's another bang from the dashboard, to which I barely jump. But the click of a gun being loaded has my eyes bulging and my heart rate picking up.

Seconds later, a steel pistol snakes through the hole in the divider, pointed straight at my head.

"I know you've dealt with enough firearms to know when one's got live ammo, so let's be smart about this." The gun nudges farther, nearly touching my forehead and I freeze, going completely still. Staring into the barrel of a gun is something even the hardest of criminals never get used to. "I'm gonna count to three, and if you're not facing that goddamn window by the end of it, I'll blow your brains all over this pretty little car. Got it?"

My pulse feels almost audible and trepidation sinks like rocks in my stomach, trying to claw its way to the surface. But I push everything other than the confidence I radiate far, far down.

I grind my teeth painfully, destructive even when faced with death. "I thought you said I wasn't being kidnapped?" The laugh that splinters through my mouth is mechanical. "Try it then, cocksucker." I press forward, feeling the chill of the metal against my skin, letting the adrenaline and the slight fear control my movements. "Shoot. Me."