Here it is, the seventh installment of Test Drive my short story. Last we saw car salesperson, Margo, she was trying to escape two men who kidnapped her during a test drive.

Please enjoy …

*****  TEST DRIVE  ***** 

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” The taller man stepped between Margo and the gun and offered her a hand. “Put that fucking thing away, John. That’s how people get hurt you idiot.” He pulled Margo to her feet. “We’re wasting time, we need to get moving. We have a short window of opportunity here.”

“She was running away, we can’t have that. I don’t know what the hell to do with her, but having her jumping in the river isn’t the solution.” He tucked the gun at his waist under the jacket and picked up the heavy duffle still sitting on the ground in front of the car. “If she isn’t going to behave …” He let the threat fill the air before he strode to the back of the car.

Margo had a hard time filling her lungs.

“My brother’s a good guy. He’s just a little on edge. I’m Peter.” He bent and looked into her eyes. “Don’t do that again. I can only buffer you from his temper for so long. Do you understand?”

Margo nodded.

“You won’t get hurt. Just let us get through the next couple of hours.” He led her to the back of the Sebring. The trunk was open and John stood with a length of rope, his eyes searching Peter’s expectantly.

Fear rolled over her, a nauseating tsunami that washed her in a rib-crushing wave that stole the air from her lungs, and had her heart pumping hard. She tasted the bitter flavor of bile as her stomach lurched. She wondered if they would put her in the trunk. Perhaps that was why John insisted on opening it at the dealership. At least she knew where the trunk release was in this model. She never thought of it as a useful safety feature until now.

“No way in hell, John.” Peter emphasized the man’s name. She’s not going in there if that’s what you’re thinking.”

John snapped the rope. “Peter,” he said the name with venom. “Where you going to put her? The back seat like we’re some taxi service?”

“Fuck you. She’s not going anywhere. She’ll sit in the front and I’ll be right behind her.”

John stepped up to her, his eyes narrowing to tiny slits, but the daggers flying through them made her wince. “One wrong move …” He slammed the trunk shut walked to the other side of the car.

Amazing how is wordless threats hurt more than the slap to her face.

“Just get in,” Peter said. “Don’t screw with him, Margo. He’s serious.” Peter opened the passenger door and she slipped hesitantly into the seat. Going with them didn’t seem like a good idea, but fighting them when they were armed … hardly seemed like a good life decision.

Copyright Nina Pierce 2008

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