Chapter 9 – Vivian
W e were driving north. That was the only indication as to our destination. I played drowsy, and it wasn’t a hard thing to do. My head ached with sharp stabbing pains in the base of my skull that radiated to the space behind my eyes . The greasy fast food helped, but the sweet tea was all gone, and I refused to take anything my kidnapper offered.
I would kill for some Excedrin. Or I could just murder my captor and be done with it.
“Will you shut that off?” I fussed, stabbing a finger at the radio.
Luka batted my hand away. “Don’t touch the stereo. It’s the only station that’s coming in clearly.”
“It’s played the same songs multiple times!” I protested. “Silence would be better at this point.”
“It’s growing on me,” Luka chuckled. “I’ve never been a country boy. But you could see it, right? Big ten-gallon hat, spurs, and a belt buckle? Damn! I’d make a cute cowboy!”
I glared at him. There was no way I was telling him he was right, even if I believed him. Which I didn’t.
“Does your ego know no bounds?” My comment only made his smirk brighter. Rolling my eyes and letting out a disgusted growl, I tried again to change the channel.
“Hey!” he warned. While that smile didn’t leave his face, a dark threat crackled under the surface.
“Aren’t shotgun riders supposed to be in charge of music?” I grumped.
“This old beaut doesn’t have Bluetooth, and I don’t have an AUX chord that finds the dead radio channels to play music through.”
“Oh my word, why do you have such a dinosaur car!”
He had an antique phone too. Was he from the turn of the century? At least his tips weren’t frosted like the boy bands of my 90s youth.
Absently, I scrubbed my hands through my own hair.
Was that smell coming from me? I breathed through my mouth. It had to be the swamp sticking to my skin.
A green road sign appeared ahead. One of the amenities listed was a gas station.
Help! I could get help.
But it had to be convincing.
Trying not to show my excitement, I pointed an accusatory finger at the road. “Bathroom. I need it.”
Luka flicked a skeptical glance at me. “You’ll use the ditch.”
My eyelids shot up. “The hell I will! I’m a lady, not an animal.”
“Not to look at you,” he laughed softly.
Fingers clenched tight, my fist shot out to connect with his chest. He caught my wrist, forced it down onto the hard plastic of the center console, and his tongue tsked sharply. “No, no, darlin. We had a no touching rule, remember?”
I snatched my hand away, rubbing the scorched skin. “Fuck you.”
“You wish.”
“I would never,” I seethed.
He only chuckled. That rich, rough sound skated across my skin all the way to my toes, where they curled deliciously.
Urgh! Infuriating man. “I have to go to the bathroom, and even if I deigned to pee on the side of the road, this isn’t one of those situations. I need a toilet, and then you’ll give me cash to buy headache pills.”
“I have those.”
“I’m not taking them.” I glared at him.
He snorted. “What if I say no?”
My stomach bottomed out. I couldn’t fake a bathroom accident when I didn’t have to go. Not that I would actually have one in the first place. I would rather die.
“Luka whatever-the-hell-your-name-is, I need the bathroom and I need it now!” I slapped the dash, silencing the god-awful song about being drunk on a plane.
“Okay, pretty princess,” he breathed, tossing a wide smile my way as he checked his blind spot and moved over. “As you wish.”
My heart jumped up and down. I did it! The first hurdle was done. Leaning back into the seat, I closed my eyes and kept any expression other than discomfort off my face.
When the car stopped, I sat up to leave.
“Not so fast.” Luka’s hand came down on my shoulder. “You already know I’m not a model citizen according to society’s flawed way of thinking.”
I pinned him with a look. “If you mean psycho, then yes, you are.”
Something flashed through his eyes. The look he gave me was icy. “Alright, smart ass, I’ll speak plainly. Do anything even remotely annoying to me—like calling for help or making a scene—and the dead bodies that pile up will be on your head. Understand?”
Air failed to go into my lungs.
“Is that clear enough, Vivian?” Luka leaned forward.
Lethal. Fierce . The look he gave me was purely animalistic. Mean and frightening. The only thing I could do in the face of this predator was nod.
When he released me, I bolted out of the car. I hurried into the convenience store and straight to the bathroom. Once I was safely behind the door, I leaned against the sink. Deep breaths filled my chest. Fear made my eyes prickle with moisture.
I won’t let him win. I won’t!
Bullies like him didn’t get to have the last word.
“Are you alright, honey?” a sweet lady asked after coming out of a stall.
Those warm, chocolatey eyes were full of matronly sympathy. Luka’s warning flared in my mind, and a fierce sense of protection surged inside me. No one else would be the victim of his madness. So I flashed her a tired smile.
“Just too long in the car,” I explained.
“Ah, that’s rough. Been there! Where you going?” She pumped soap on her hands and began to scrub them.
“To Texas,” I lied with a small smile. “Dad’s been sick, and I’m going back to help mom.”
The woman sniffed. “Lawd! They need to do a cleanin’ in here.”
I winced, taking a small step back. It wasn’t the bathroom.
“Texas, you say?” she continued, drying her hands. “That’s a drive.”
“It is,” I agreed. In a flash of genius, the answer I needed presented itself. “Say, do you have a pen or pencil I could borrow?”
“Oh! Sure thing, honey.” The woman dug in her handbag. “Do you need some paper?”
“No, I’m good.” I ripped a paper towel. “I’ll just write down my to-do list and give you the pen back in a second—”
“No, no! I have lots. Blessings to you and your dad. I’ll keep y’all in my prayers!” With that, the woman pattered off.
An overwhelming burst of gratitude came out at that. There was still goodness in the world. Even in this shit situation, there was light.
“I won’t give that light up,” I breathed.
Taking the paper towel into the stall, I scribbled a note. I forced myself to use the toilet, not knowing what the next several hours would look like. My body was severely dehydrated, and the trickle was no better than Sunny D in the porcelain bowl. That was not going to help my headache.
I can’t get a migraine right now.
No matter what happened, water, electrolytes, and over-the-counter meds were a must. Hands washed, I concealed the pen. The note was folded, my fingers curled protectively around it.
The first thing I saw upon leaving was a pair of impossibly light blue eyes. Their glacial stare froze me in place.
Don’t play guilty! Scowling, I stormed forward. “That’s the wrong color of Gatorade,” I snapped. Reaching into the freezer, I pulled out two red ones. “Fruit Punch is the only acceptable flavor.”
Luka made a gagging sound. “You’re nuts. It’s Cool Blue or nothing.”
“We agree to disagree.” I gave him a withering smile before brushing past his hulking mass and going to the chips. I needed something to occupy my mouth while the overwhelming mass of nerves consumed me. Three bags of Blue Heat Takis found their way into the crook of my arm.
“Are those the best choice if your stomach is upset?” He was right behind me. It was hard not to jump.
“They’re my favorite, and they’ve never bothered me before.” I plucked a bottle of Excedrin and one of Motrin off the shelf.
“I have those,” Luka complained.
“And I said I’m not taking anything from you.”
“They’re charging three times as much!” he protested in a whisper.
I threw a look of disbelief over my shoulder. “You’re no doubt getting paid in some way, shape, or form for this…service. So shut up and add it to the bill.”
The rich belly laugh boomed behind me.
It was hard not to smile.
“That’s the spirit!” the lady from the bathroom said as she was about to push out the door. “Keep her smiling, friend. I’m glad you have someone to watch your back, honey.”
With a wink, she left.
Through a broad smile that was more fake than double Ds on a size 2 swimsuit model, Luka asked, “Who was that?”
“A kind soul who will pray for me and my sick father, whom you’re driving me to Texas to see.” I met his smile with one of my own. If he saw the anger and hatred behind it, he didn’t appear fazed.
The purchases were placed on the counter. Luka had an Arizona Herbal Tonic RX. That had caffeine. My mouth watered. I hadn’t had one of those in ages.
“Go get me another one of those.” I jerked my chin to the cooler.
Luka gave me a deadpan look. “Only if you say please, darlin.”
Don’t punch him. I needed him gone more than my fist needed to feel his nose.
“Please,” I forced through my teeth.
Barking a laugh, he sauntered off.
“Don’t open this until we leave.” I slipped the note to the clerk. “That man is dangerous.”
This was the hard part. If she showed even the slightest fear, Luka would know. I had no doubt. Those eagle-eyes missed nothing.
“Smile,” I hissed.
Rounding, I jerked my chin at the rack of candy my captor was passing. “Malted Milk Balls too, please.”
“I’ve got to say, I didn’t take you for a junk food girly.” He brought the items to the counter.
“What makes you say that?” I tipped my head, studying him and forcing his focus on me as the clerk rang up the items.
Luka shrugged. “You had chickpeas, cucumbers, and grilled chicken in your fridge.”
“If I eat healthy ninety percent of the time, then I can splurge—” I gaped at him. “Wait! Hold up!”
The left side of his mouth quirked as he leaned against the counter, watching me.
This is what you wanted! Play along. “You went through my fridge.” It wasn’t a question.
Luka nodded. “You can tell a lot about a person from what they keep in their kitchen.”
“Well, in this case, you were wrong.” I snatched the bags.
Luka tossed a fifty on the counter. The woman’s fingers trembled as she took it.
“What’s in your fridge?” I demanded, drawing his attention back to the conversation and away from the woman.
As if a fishhook caught on the other side, the right part of his mouth quirked up to match. “The kitchen pantry is stocked for a professional chef. Lots of fresh produce, organic meats—anything Mediterranean, even European. Rare, imported ingredients. My step-mom makes sure none of us goes hungry.”
Well, if that wasn’t the biggest surprise.
He read it on my face. Swiping the change into his hand, he followed me out the door. Relief sloughed off my shoulders. He hadn’t caught the clerk’s obvious terror.
“Surprised?” he teased.
“Mhmm….” I cracked one of the Arizona Teas. The fake flavors and obscene amount of sugar burst over my tongue. “I expected it to be filled with dead puppies and kittens.”
“There are mice in the freezer,” he mused. “But I’m not a monster. Never a puppy or kitten.”
The tea choked in my throat. Luka leaned against the hood of the car right behind me. “Do you need me to thump your back?” he drawled, voice light and teasing. “I don’t want to break the no-touching pact, but I can’t have you choking, darlin.”
He knew I wasn’t actually in danger of asphyxiation.
“You’re an ass!” I gasped. “And mice? Who the fuck has mice in their freezer?!”
“My step-mom. She makes minced dormice. It’s a delicacy, apparently. Her and her granddaughters eat it like it’s fucking candy. I think it tastes good, so does my brother. But the rest of my family abstains.” Luka chuckled, shutting the door behind me.
There was so much packed into that statement. My mind tried, and failed, to process it. He had a family. A seemingly normal—albeit mice-eating—family.
As he slid into the driver’s seat, I pinned him with a glare. “Is your stepmother proud of you for kidnapping a poor girl and holding her captive?”
The words should have been swallowed. A smart captive did not provoke her kidnapper. Apparently, I lacked the survival gene.
Luka grew very quiet. He pulled the vehicle onto the road before speeding back onto the highway. Only my heavy breathing filled the space. My fingers itched to turn on the stereo. But my headache wasn’t lessening, not caring about the situation at hand.
Daring to move, I opened the headache medicine and threw back two pills with a sip of my drink.
“You’re a job, Vivian.” Those four words were laced with regret.
“I’m a person, Luka.”
We didn’t say anything for a long time. The Excedrin kicked in, and mixed with the sugary tea, I began to feel like myself. I turned and stared at the trees and ditches passing us by.
Whatever connection we’d formed—the one we had over junk food and jokes—was gone. This was how it was supposed to feel. A captive with her captor. Not the man who held her hand while we swung 300+ feet through the sky.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Luka hissed.
Startled from my stupor, I realized it had been a half-hour since we left the gas station. But the clerk had come through for me!
“I was going the speed limit—” Luka pulled over, taking the next exit, turned in his seat, and pinned me with a look. “What did you do?”
I gave him my most innocent look. “Me? I’m not the one driving.”
“I warned you, Vivian.” Luka’s hand shot out and snared my chin. “Lie to me again and see just how terrifying I actually can be.”
“You’re touching me,” I ground out. “Looks like I’m not the only liar.”
Luka snatched his hand away with a guttural noise. Whatever monster lurked under the smiles and laughs was right there. Immediate fear for the cop shot through me, a bolt of ice that punctured my stomach.
“Don’t hurt him!” I gasped, ready to plead, do anything for the highway patrolman.
Luka slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “I’m not in the habit of hurting cops, military, or—unfortunately for me—women. But I could strangle you right now, Vivian.”
“Just don’t hurt the cop,” I whispered.
Window down and driver’s license in his hand along with registration, Luka ground his molars. It was like watching an impending storm. I knew it was going to be bad but was helpless to calm the heavens.
“Hello, young man, do you know why I pulled you over today?” The trooper leaned against the open window.
“It has to be the left taillight, officer. I changed it already, but I have no doubt it shorted out again.” Gone was the anger and dangerous aura. In its place was a suave, buttery charmer.
“I did see this vehicle was pulled over last week for an out taillight, but it wasn’t that.” The officer held out his hand. “Can I see your ID, bucko?”
Luka smirked. “Sure thing.”
He handed the cards through the window and returned his hand back to the steering wheel. It was perfect traffic stop etiquette.
For a breathless second, the storm seemed to break. My heartbeat calmed as I watched the situation unfold.
“Is there a problem, officer?” Luka looked up at him.
“Hmm, can I ask you to step out of the vehicle, kiddo? Hands where I can see them. That’s it.”
Luka obeyed the series of instructions. The highway patrolman might think he was in charge, but I saw the truth. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard that stars appeared in my vision.
And then Luka was cuffed from behind and sat on the hood of the car.
“Miss, can you step out of the vehicle?” the officer asked.
I clambered out. Freedom, I was right there.
So why did I feel like I just made the biggest miscalculation of my life? Staggering to the front of the Civic, I gave the officer a small smile. “Yes, sir?”
“We received a memo from dispatch that a blue Civic heading northbound on Interstate 75 had a domestic situation. Are you in danger, miss?”
The officer had muddy brown eyes. But as I stared into their depths, wondering just what to say, I saw the spark of kindness.
I could trust this public servant. He’d taken an oath and was here to help me.
“Yes,” I mouthed.
A glint brightened the state trooper’s eyes. He nodded slightly. “Alright, sweetie, it’s going to be okay.”
Moving to the front of the car, the state trooper’s voice hardened. “Hands on the hood, bucko. I’m going to cuff you and take you in for questioning.”
“Be careful!” I breathed.
The trooper turned, a condescending smile on his lips, and no doubt an equally dismissive statement on his tongue. Whatever it was, it never came.
A mass of muscle jumped from behind. That heavily muscled arm, decorated with ink, wrapped around the trooper’s throat. He reached for his gun, but a handcuff cinched his wrist. And then the trooper cracked into the hood of the Civic.
“No need to get ugly, comrade,” Luka snarled. “You couldn’t just let us go on our way.”
“Luka!” I screamed.
Racing around, I tried to pull him off, but it would have been easier to move a mountain. It didn’t stop me from trying. But Luka merely wrapped his arm around the cop once more, and this time, he squeezed.
The cop’s face reddened. Purpled. And then, his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
“Luka! Stop,” I begged. “You’re killing him.”
“No, little girl, I’m not killing him.” Luka dropped the lump of flesh down on the hood. “He’ll wake up.”
Taking the badge, hat, and gun, Luka dragged the body to the backseat of the Civic. He tossed the cop inside and then slammed the door. “You have five seconds to grab your snacks, Vivian.”
Luka didn’t look at me as he stormed to the trunk, plucked his duffle bag, a small backpack, and a brown cardboard box, and then jogged to the running cop car.
Robotically, I followed. As I made my way to the passenger seat, Luka shook his head. “No, trouble, you’re sitting in the back.”
I was too numb to argue. At least he let me keep my snacks. I sat down and listened as Luka began a string of foreign language into his dinosaur phone. I wasn’t good at guessing origins, so it was impossible to be certain. But I felt like it was something Eastern European. A voice responded in the same tone.
Luka pushed a string of buttons on the cop’s computer. When he threw up his hands in triumph, slapping his palm gleefully on the steering wheel, he smooched the phone and ended the call. And then we were back on the highway.