Bryan Smith: The Killing Kind

And it didn’t matter one bit that she was a girl. Or that he was bigger and probably stronger. She possessed the savage quickness of a feral thing. And she would never hesitate to wound or inflict pain. These things were every bit as obvious as her beauty. He had never felt so intimidated in his life and was terrified at the thought of doing anything else at all to anger her.

She set the tote bag on the floorboard.

The sun glinted off something shiny in her hands.

Rob frowned. “Handcuffs?”

She reached across him and grabbed his left wrist. She slapped one of the bracelets around it and snapped it shut. Then she snapped the other one around the steering wheel. Rob gaped at the sight of his cuffed hand.

He looked at her. “Is that really necessary?”

“I’ve found the judicious use of restraints an effective way to keep morons like you in line.”

“Seems a bit overkill to me. And I’m not a moron.”

“I don’t care what you think. So shut up and drive, idiot.”

Rob put the Galaxie in gear and tapped the gas pedal. The car rolled away from the pump.

“Stop.”

Rob stepped on the brake pedal and looked at her. She was staring at the strip-mall parking lot again. The Galaxie was stopped at the edge of the Kwik Mart’s lot. The street between the strip mall and the convenience store was temporarily clear of traffic.

He coughed. “Um…should I just drive over there?”

“No. Wait.”

They waited.

Several minutes passed.

A van pulled out of the strip mall’s parking lot and turned right onto the street.

The girl punched his shoulder. “Follow that fucking van.”

Rob stared after the van for a moment before obeying the command. The road between the strip mall and the Kwik Mart was a narrow two-lane deal. He’d gotten a good glimpse at the people inside the van as they’d pulled onto the street. It was filled with several young people roughly the same age as his abductor. They were all maybe three or four years his junior. College age. But they didn’t look like this girl at all. They looked…well…normal.

His hesitation was brief, but long enough to be noticeable.

He tried to think of a nonsinister reason why she would want to follow the kids in the van.

Nothing came to mind.

The gun was in her hand again. She pressed it against a spot on his thigh. “This is where your femoral artery is. I shoot you here, you bleed out fast.”

Rob stepped on the Galaxie’s gas pedal.

There was a blare of horns as the old car shot out into the street. Rob ignored the subsequent angry gestures. He cranked the wheel hard to the right and hurried to catch up to the receding van.

March 22

She could no longer stand the sound of his voice. Seriously. This is how fucked-up things had gotten between Zoe Martin and Chuck Kirby, her boyfriend since the summer between their junior and senior years at Smyrna High School. Her head started hurting every time he opened his mouth. It set her teeth on edge. It didn’t matter what he was saying. Or what the tone of it was. He could be happy and laughing, cracking jokes. Or angry and lashing out at her (though that was pretty rare). He could say something sweet, the kind of thing that should melt a girl’s heart, and it would only make her want to throw up.

Thing was, they’d just been together too long.

More than three and a half years now, coming up hard on four full years. Spring break was here, which meant summer was just around the corner. The prospect of yet another anniversary as Chuck’s girl stirred feelings of desperation and dread. Sometimes she could feel her youth melting away, disappearing in slow but relentless drips down a cosmic drain. Every passing day was another lost chance at something new. It made her so fucking sad. And maybe that made her immature, a notion she’d lost some sleep over in recent months, but she’d come to accept her feelings as genuine. She didn’t care if it meant she was shallow. She was young, still a few months shy of legal drinking age, so she was allowed. The time had come to embrace immaturity while she was still in a stage of her life where that was acceptable. In two short months her junior year at Vanderbilt University would be history. As would her relationship with Chuck. She wanted to be truly carefree again, to revel in her youth and experience a level of emotional freedom that hadn’t been hers since high school. There would be a time for a forever relationship somewhere else down the line.

Somewhere way down the line, preferably.

And with someone other than Chuck.

She’d made the decision weeks ago.

She’d kept it to herself so far, whispering nary a word of it to anyone, not even her closest friends. This goddamn excursion to Myrtle Beach was the main reason she hadn’t made it official yet. The trip had been in the planning stages since the end of the previous summer. Chuck’s father, a big-shot developer, was paying for everything, the ostentatious beach house and the van rental being the primary expenses. The big Chevrolet Express guzzled enough gas to give your average environmentalist a coronary, but Conrad Kirby’s platinum-card largesse rendered even the rising fuel prices meaningless. Everything was covered, down to the incidentals.

But it wasn’t just the money holding her back.

There were her friends to consider.

Annalisa Collins and Emily Sinclair. Not just her friends, but her best friends, a connection extending back into childhood, long before Chuck had come into the picture. So Conrad’s undeniably generous invitation had been extended to them, as well. Zoe just didn’t have the heart to ruin it for them. So she’d decided it’d be easier to just delay the big breakup drama a little longer. She wouldn’t do it right after they returned either. Too tacky, that, not to mention a touch too obvious. After a lot of thought, she’d come to the conclusion it would be best to wait until just before the end of the spring semester. That way she’d get free just ahead of the dreaded summer anniversary. Sure, Chuck would be upset for a while, but he’d get over it.

It was something to look forward to.

In the meantime…

“You shouldn’t have been so mean to that girl.”

Emily was talking to Chuck again, giving him more shit about the run-in with the goth chick back at the strip mall. Unlike Zoe, she was not at all reluctant to confront Chuck or call him out on his bullshit. Zoe generally thought Chuck was all right. A touch too arrogant, sure, but some of that was to be expected, given his privileged upbringing. But underneath all that he was a decent, caring guy.

Still…Emily was right.

He had been pretty mean.

Chuck and Joe Walker, his best friend, were up front, with Chuck planted behind the wheel and Joe slouched down in the shotgun seat, an open tallboy can of Bud held between his legs. Chuck grunted. “Ooh, Little Miss Bleeding Heart’s all offended and shit.”

Joe laughed and knocked back a swig of beer. “Yeah. Em’s all about cultural diversity and respectin’ our mutual fuckin’ differences and shit.” He twisted in his seat and poked his head through the gap, a grin lighting up the part of his handsome face visible beneath the black shades perched atop his nose. “Good thing she’s such a good lay.”

Emily’s tone turned frosty. “Hmm…Want to guess who won’t be getting any for a while?”

There was a snort from the back, and Annalisa’s exuberant voice rang out. “Yeah, right! You’re like this one.” She nudged her boyfriend, Sean Hewitt, who was back there with her. “Too horny to go without more than a day. I’ve heard the stories. He’ll come begging for it, you’ll mess with him a little, and then you’ll both wind up making enough noise to scare the neighbors half to death. Go on, tell me I’m wrong.”