Russian Boss’s Secret Baby by Bella King
Ch 23
MIA
Katie’s sunny demeanor has already flipped into a more manic, sinister persona. The changes were subtle, but I’ve been paying close attention the longer she drives. She almost seems in over her head, like she’s nervous to have me in her car. She’s been speeding through stoplights or braking hard almost mid-intersection, and the longer I refuse to divulge more information, the more frustrated she becomes.
“I really think you should tell me about your boss. What’s his name? Where does he live?” she asks, getting more and more desperate with the question.
Who just asks that about somebody like that? Does she know Slate?
“I really need you to let me out, just over here is fine. We’re getting a bit far from the diner now,” I reply. The animalistic parts of my brain are desperate to jump from the moving vehicle. I’m almost ready to start scratching at the windows like a panicked animal in a execution chamber.
“Just tell me what I’m asking, and I’ll let you out,” she replies with a menacingly deadpan affect. “It’s actually very rude that you’re being so withdrawn after I rescued you,” she continues, turning the blame on me as if I should crawl to my knees and beg her forgiveness.
“I’m just really not comfortable giving you that information,” I respond, now with a more aggressive tone rather than my “please be nice to me” social voice that I use for strangers and customers. “And quite honestly I’m prepared to call the police if you don’t let me out right fucking now,” I continue.
As soon as I start to show signs of being uncooperative, Katie pulls a handgun from the middle console of the car and points it at my head.
Goddamn it! This again? I think to myself.
“I think that would be very unwise in your position, bitch,” she says with a low growl in her voice. “Your freedom is in reach, all you need to do is tell me who he is and where he is,” she continues with her aggressive tone.
I close my eyes and breathe deep. What really are my choices here? I’ve tried the agreeable approach, and it got a gun put to my head. Time to try something else.
In a split second, I force the butt of the handgun into Katie’s temple while she is distracted by driving. She immediately swerves into the oncoming lane, narrowly missing a Hummer that is speeding town the road.
She fires the gun accidentally into the windshield. “Bitch,” she exclaims as the window shatters, the gunshot deafening at such close range.
She immediately drops the gun and lunges into my side of the car, now attempting to strangle me for startling her and trying to fight back. Her foot presses the gas to its full potential, and within seconds we’re speeding down a back road at 90 miles per hour.
I reach for a fistful of her hair, grabbing at the length and twisting to gain a better grip. I pull her head back, and as soon as I feel her jerking her head to break free, I let go of her hair, sending her head directly into the driver’s side window.
She immediately flips the steering wheel all the way around, sending the car into a continuous roll along the side of the road, a descent into a ravine just before the guardrails start.
The car flips over for what feels like an eternity, Katya’s body whipping around in the front seat, her head slamming into the driver’s side window repeatedly. The terrible sound of glass shattering all around me is the only sound competing with my screams.
The rolling stops as the front end of the car is forced to a halt by a cluster of trees at the base of the ravine, and everything ceases.
