of new cars. I wouldn’t be able to kick out the lights. My legs wobbling, I moved for the trunk. He shoved me hard in the back, and I fell inside, scrambling for purchase. The lid came crashing down, and I screamed, rolling into a ball to keep from getting hit with it. The sound echoed all around, and darkness surrounded me.
I kicked and punched the sides, trying to knock out the lights. Nothing. The old car was solid. And quiet. I lost track of the time as I lay in the dark, trying to hit different points to get free. Even punching what was probably the back seat didn’t help. Where was the judge?
Finally, the car roared to life. I froze. Completely.
Then we were driving.
I lost count of how many bumps the judge hit driving, finally curling into a ball to keep from bouncing off the trunk’s lid and sides. He truly sucked as a driver. The car smelled like old golf socks. I tried to pay attention to twists and turns and pauses, but my ears rang, and my entire body hurt. Where had he been while I’d been locked in the trunk?
And where were we going?
It didn’t make sense that he wanted me alive. No way would the DEA give him the drugs from the lab in exchange for me. He had to know that. So why?
Finally, he slowed, and the sound of the rain increased in pitch. He drove up something, and then…silence.
I could do this. It might be my only chance. I rolled to my knees to charge when he opened the trunk. Heavy footsteps sounded, and then the trunk opened. Light flashed into my eyes, and I shut them, attacking with fists and fingernails. I hit him beneath the jaw, and we went down.
My elbow smacked concrete, and I cried out, trying to scissor my legs around his waist.
“Damn it.” Fingers leeched into my hair and dragged me off him. “Quit it.” Spider yanked me to my feet.
I kicked his knee hard and punched for his soft gut, impacting surprising muscles.
“Stop.” He twisted and backhanded me so hard I fell to the ground. Pain exploded in my cheekbone. My good one. I leaped up, and the cocking of a gun stopped me. I turned, panting, to see Sal Hallenback in a greasy T-shirt and overalls holding a silver pistol pointed at me.
Spider grunted and half-bent over, catching his breath.
I swiveled, my hair still a wild and wet mess. We were in a well-lit empty metal shop with a couple of cars parked at the far side. One of several garage doors was open to a lot containing a few scattered wrecked vehicles. “Where are we?” I huffed.
“Storage garage outside of town,” the judge said, slamming the trunk door closed. “We keep some of the wrecked vehicles here for parts if we need them.”
Great. There was nobody near to hear me scream. He didn’t need to say it.
Spider straightened, murder in his eyes. “I get ten minutes with this bitch before we end her.”
“Original,” I muttered. What a moron. “You’d better hope he doesn’t drop that gun,” I threatened. Boy, would I love five minutes and a chance to kick his balls through his temples. Adrenaline left a bitter taste in my mouth while fear heightened my senses.
Spider shoved me, and I fell against the car, my ribs smashing into the trunk. Agony slashed deep inside me. I gasped and slid to the ground, my eyes wide.
“Stay down there,” he hissed.
I sat, putting my back to the car and hugging my knees to my chest. Everything hurt. There wasn’t a good option between Sal with the gun, Spider with the fists, and the judge with the sharp eyes. But he was my best bet. My only option. “Judge? You know the lab is blanketed by cops. The techs there, the workers there, the drugs there…are all out of your reach.” It hurt to breathe. “Melvin Whitaker is probably giving up all three of you right this second.”
“No. He won’t give me up.” The judge stood right inside the garage and out of the rain, which splashed across his boots. “I’m his best chance of getting out of the system.”
Only if he didn’t get caught with me. I felt the heat slide out of my face. Panic tried to grab me, and I dug deep. There had to be a way to reach him with the law. “You kidnapped me. If I’m dead, you’ll be charged