DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete First Book

PART 1, SECTION 23

"Let me out." It was everything I could do not to scream. "Right now. Jason. Let me out. There's no way this is even legal. Let me out right now."

Jason put his head through the open window and brought it close to mine. He sniffed.

"You been drinking? Ashley? Are you still drunk, maybe?" Now he put his finger under my chin and turned my face around toward his. He sniffed again. "I wonder if maybe you're getting just a little belligerent. I wouldn't want to have to detain you. But if I have to, I have to. It'd be for your own good."

I couldn't even think. I hadn't ever been so enraged in my life. I just acted without planning. Suddenly I found that I'd slammed my foot into the gas pedal.

My car heaved forward. Jason spun around, and the next thing I saw of him was just his hand flopping out through the window. I'm not sure, but I may have broken his arm.

I didn't have much time to wonder about it, though, because my bumper hit the two wooden police barricades. I lurched forward with the impact, and I worried for a moment that I might not make it through. But I just kept my foot on the gas, and my little car surged, knocked the barriers aside, and sent them tumbling onto the road.

I looked into the rear-view mirror. 

My taillights were just bright enough to illuminate Jason limping forward. He raised his gun with one hand. I ducked and kept speeding forward as fast as my car would go. But I was already too far away; he lowered his gun without firing, and I turned the corner onto the completely empty highway.

I drove faster and faster, trying to catch my breath, maxing out at a little over ninety miles an hour. The road was completely empty. The night was completely dark.

And then I felt it: someone's hand on my shoulder.

For a moment I tried to reason that this was impossible, that maybe my seat belt had tightened when I'd crashed through the barricades. But I wasn't wearing my seat belt.

Someone really was in the back of my car—had been in the back of my car this whole time—and now they were touching my shoulder!

I felt an index finger slowly rise up the skin on my neck. Very lightly, it touched my ear.

I was driving way too fast to take my eyes off the road. My car was shuddering from the speed. Without really thinking about it, I held on tight to the wheel and reached for the gun. I felt its metallic grip at the tips of my fingers.

But I didn't grab it.

And this is what's really weird. This is what I still can't figure out. Because more than anything else right then I was truly afraid that Haley had been hurt, or worse. I was also consumed by worry that I may have cheated on Shawn. And now I was truly, utterly terrified at the fact that someone was in the back of my car, running their finger along the softest part of my neck. And yet, despite all of this, that weirdly euphoric sensation of invincibility that had overcome me after waking up still hadn't gone away. If anything, it was suddenly becoming more intense.

Whoever was behind me drew their hand down over my shoulder, slowly across my ribs and abdomen, then plunged it, very softly, toward my jeans.

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