Tattoos and Scars | Rewritten Version

Chapter 8 || Here I Come

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TRIGGER WARNING: panic attack. if you are not comfortable reading about that then make sure you skip that part. 

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I think I'm getting the hang of this! I think Adrian begs to differ, but since when did I care about what people think of me? Never, that's when.

"Why didn't you tell me you couldn't drive?!" He shouts from the back as he shoots at someone else. I'm honestly surprised I haven't been shot yet and honestly, I don't look forward to being in bed for any longer.

"No," I reply with a smirk as I swerve a car on the highway. I take an exit just as Adrian manages to shoot the tire of one of those white cars causing it to roll over.

"Fucking hell, where did they come from?" He growls to himself as he takes out a new gun and begins to shoot. Sure, instead of reloading, just change your gun, that works too.

"Duck!" He shouts, and I duck. "No, I meant a literal duck! SWERVE!" Well, that was unexpected. "You are such a terrible driver!"

"No." I like how this annoys him and he deserves it because he kidnapped me. And now we're being shot at. I notice another black car speed past us and it slows down when it's next to us.

Is that Anna I see? "Hey, Anna!" I start to wave, letting go of the wheel, causing us to zig-zag.

"The fucking wheel! Grab the fucking wheel!" Adrian screams from behind. Oh boy, he really is having the time of his life. "Fuck!" He shouts as a bullet pierces through the window. Luckily it doesn't hit him.

"We have backup!" Anna shouts from the driver's seat of the other car. "Try not to kill Adrian!" Just as she says that, five other black cars pull up around us and Adrian takes a moment to breathe.

"I almost died."

"Well duh, you had bullets coming at you," I roll my eyes.

"You're such a bad driv- CAR!" He shrieks, in a really high pitched tone and I swerve a car right in front of me. "Are you fifteen?"

"I'm actually eighteen."

"Then how do you not know how to drive?"

"No." I plan on telling him that I don't trust having a car in my neighborhood but refrain from mentioning anything about that.

"Can you say anything other than no?"

"No."

I hear him groan in frustration. "Get out of the driver seat."

I take a deep breath. "No."

"What's your name, anyway? TREE!"

I swerve a tree and get back on the road. "My name is Bailey."

"Bailey, get the fuck out of that seat! You can't even drive."

"What are you going to do? Call the fuzz?" I smile slyly, wiggling my eyebrows at him. "Oh right, you can't call them because you're running from them."

"I'm not running from them," He grumbles. "PERSON!" I turn back around to face the road and I quickly screech the car to a halt when the person I almost hit runs away. At this point, he's sweating profusely and looks genuinely scared. "Give me the damn wheel!" He begins to crawl towards the front seat. "Move."

"No. You may get in the passenger seat if you like."

"I swear to fucking hell, move the fuck out of that fucking seat."