Page 95 of Over Her Dead Body

Before I can release it, he twists in his seat and reaches between the front seats.

I pull the phone against my chest.

His hand closes around my wrist.

“Let go of me.”

There is nothing hurried about him. His thumb presses into the tendons until my fingers open. He takes the phone, ends the call, and shoves it in his suit pocket.

Then he faces forward and pulls back onto the road.

I reach for the door handle.

It lifts without resistance.

The door stays shut.

I pull again, hard enough for the plastic to bite into my palm.

Nothing.

Child locks.

I press the window control. The glass does not move.

The driver watches me in the mirror.

I drag at the air in short, useless pulls. I close my mouth, but the sound continues through my nose, thin and humiliating.

Every precaution I know begins before the door closes.

I keep one hand wrapped around the handle and brace my feet against the floor.

The car gathers speed.

My phone is in his pocket. My suitcase is in the trunk.

The road ahead narrows. Warehouses replace apartment buildings. Traffic falls away until ours is the only car moving in either direction.

“We’re not going to my hotel.”

The driver’s eyes find mine in the mirror.

“No.”

CHAPTER 36

EMMA

“Then where are we going?”

“Stop talking.”

His English is perfectly clear.

I keep one hand around the door handle and use the other to open my bag.

“I have cash.” The words catch in my throat. I swallow and try again. “Credit cards. I’ll give you the PINs.”