Cleo ordered a mocha with oat milk. Ten minutes later, she tossed out her empty Styrofoam cup, slipped her arms through the straps of her backpack, and walked two blocks to the twenty-four-hour gym. As she passed by the blue MINI Cooper parked on the side of the road, she saw Psycho behind the wheel, ready to go. She tipped her chin as she passed by. It was good to know she had backup in case anything went wrong.
Eddie Carter’s charcoal-gray Ford Escape was parked beneath a tall oak with branches that spread out like a giant umbrella. With an abundance of confidence, she walked over to the vehicle and reached for the handle, surprised when the back door came right open. Nice. No need to use the nifty tools she’d bought to break in.
She climbed into the car, shut the door, then hunkered down behind the driver’s seat. Her small size made it easy to get comfortable. She was wearing a baseball cap over the black wig and large polarized sunglasses instead of a mask. If Eddie decided to throw his gym bag in the back seat, she could have a problem. But she would deal with that when the time came.
Crouched low, her Glock 43X loaded, she was ready to go.
She’d thought about bringing Eddie to her apartment, where she could strap him to her husband’s favorite chair and use him as a dartboard. Fifty points for hitting him square in the forehead, twenty-five points per eyeball. Ten points for everything else.
Her heart no longer galloped inside her chest. Her adrenaline should be off the charts, but it wasn’t. Maybe because she no longer had anything to live for.
Her husband had finally gone through with his threat and taken the kids and left her. Understandable, considering the hell she’d put her family through. Most days, she couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed. When her husband found her searching the internet for ways to end her life, she hadn’t understood why he’d made such a big deal about it. She thought everybody googled that shit. Apparently not.
She’d spent a hot second thinking about reaching out to her therapist. But ultimately decided against it. She already knew the drill. Her therapist would tell her she had PTSD and was going through a major depressive episode, and reaching out meant she wanted to live.
That was the part that had Cleo stumped. Sort of.
Why wasn’t she reaching out? Did she really want to die?
She could call her mother or father. No. They had been through way too much to be bothered. Let them live in peace. They had been outraged after Cleo’s ordeal at the fraternity. They’d mortgaged their home to pay for an attorney and stood by her throughout the long process to get to trial. But after listening day after day to all those clean-cut boys in their perfectly fitted suits and ties, telling the jury outrageous lies about Cleo, she’d seen her parents age right before her eyes. Her parents had looked distressed and scared. They’d been emotionally exhausted by the time it was over.
The truth was, Cleo did like boys back then. But contrary to popular belief, when multiple boys at that fraternity house had raped her, she’d been a virgin. Her decision not to have sex prior to that time hadn’t had anything to do with religion or her parents’ teachings. It was a choice she’d made due to the fact that she’d always been a romantic, a happy, carefree romantic, who’d wanted to find that one special man and spend the rest of her life with him.
Eddie Carter and his friends had changed all that.
A part of her had died when Eddie Carter raped her. Every time another boy had climbed on top of her, she’d fought harder, screaming until her throat had been raw and her voice abandoned her.
There had been a crowd of people in the room. At least a dozen faces staring down at her and doing nothing to help.
Before she lost her voice, shock had turned to anger. She’d bitten and screamed and done everything she could to fight back. But it wasn’t until she’d stopped fighting that the crowd began to disperse. They’d wanted to be entertained. Once her body had gone limp, they’d left. But not the boys who wanted a piece of her. Those boys had stayed and waited their turn. They didn’t seem to mind that she’d stared into their eyes, their souls, while each had taken his turn.
The driver’s door opened, sending a jolt through her and bringing her back to reality.
Stay calm. Stay silent. Don’t move.
The back of the seat moved from the weight of him. The engine roared to life. Tires rolled over smooth pavement, and the vehicle dipped forward when he pulled out of the parking lot and merged onto the main street.
She didn’t have much time. The second the car came to a stop, she pushed herself upward. Sitting on the edge of the back seat, she put the gun to the side of his head.
She could see his face in the rearview mirror. His eyes were round and overly bright.
“What’s going on?” he asked. His body tensed. “What are you doing in my car?”
Afraid he might try to run, she pressed the gun hard against his skull and said, “When the light turns green make a left. If you stop the car again, I’ll shoot you.” Her hand trembled. She didn’t like that. Steady as she goes.
“Take my wallet.” His voice was suddenly high and squeaky. “I’ll pull over and you can have my car. And all my money too.”
“The light is green, asshole! Go!”
The Ford Escape jerked forward before smoothing out. He made a left as instructed, then started to pull to the side of the road.
She pressed the gun into the side of his head. Hard. “Stay on the road! Don’t pull over. Don’t stop. I have nothing to lose, so don’t test me.”
The car jerked to the left, back on course.
“What do you want with me?”
“I want you to keep your eyes on the road and follow my directions. Do as I say and you won’t get hurt.” She looked over her shoulder, glad to see Psycho’s MINI Cooper a few cars back. When she turned around, her gaze met Eddie’s. She could tell by the look on his face that he was up to something. Before she could do anything about it, he jerked the wheel to the right, throwing Cleo off balance. She used her hands to stop herself from crashing into the door.
He slammed on the brakes. This time Cleo’s head smacked into the back of his seat.
He put the car in park and jumped out.
Her adrenaline was running a marathon now. Eddie ran into the street, waving his arms. A car honked and swerved around him.
Psycho pulled over to help the man. The second Cleo saw Eddie Carter climb into Psycho’s car, she bolted from his Ford Escape, ran to catch up to the electric-blue MINI Cooper, and jumped into the back seat.
Eddie looked over his shoulder at Cleo, then at Psycho. “That’s her!”
Psycho leaned toward Eddie and zapped him with a stun gun. His body twitched as she passed the stun gun to Cleo and hit the gas. “Take care of him, would you?”
Cleo set the gun on the floor, then removed her backpack and placed it behind Psycho’s seat. She leaned to the far right and squeezed her hand between the car door and the front passenger seat. When she found a lever, she pulled hard. Eddie’s seat came down.
He was drooling. His eyes appeared dazed.
“We’re in the clear,” Psycho said as she glanced in the rearview mirror. “His timing couldn’t have been better. Now we won’t need to worry about getting rid of his car.”
Cleo examined the stun gun, then pressed the prongs to his shoulder and tased him again.