A Minor Technicality [Completed] *Slowly Editing*

Chapter 37 - Good Samaritan

Blythe's POV

The buzzing in my head intensified as I stared through the window at the quickly passing foliage. I rubbed my temples with my fingers, applying pressure to alleviate the pain. We'd been driving for almost an hour, and Michael had yet to say a word to me.  Even the radio was mute, and the air was thick with tension. I turned from the monotonous view and faced my captor.

"Michael," I began, but his growl of dissatisfaction overshadowed my voice.

"Not now, babe," he commanded, tone fierce. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel, and his furious gaze cut to me. "Not fucking now."

A shudder ran down my spine, and I cast my eyes to the floor of the car. Nodding silently, I returned my face to the trees beyond my window. The verdant greens of the oaks and hickory trees lining the road blurred, becoming a blank canvas for my straying thoughts. My gut churned as I worried for Farrah. I hoped she had reached safety. I knew that once she did, Luca would make sure she reached Oklahoma and my parents. Tears burned my eyes as I pictured my mother's laughing face and my father's soft brown eyes. Regret consumed me. I would never get to tell them how sorry I was for stubbornly shutting them out of my life. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, forcing back the salty tears that I refused to let Michael see.

"Hey," Michael barked. My stomach flipped, and I turned to face him. My muscles relaxed when I saw the cell phone at his ear.

"Yeah, we're on our way out of town."

The setting sun highlighted the strawberry accents in his hair, and I could just barely make out the smattering of freckles across his cheeks. I stared at Michael's hair. It was so uncharacteristically disheveled that I wanted to run my fingers through it. Old habits really do die hard. I struggled to fathom that the hard man next to me had once been my gentle lover. The dark expression on his face was once filled with laughter and kindness. How could I have been so blind? He'd always had such a boyish charm. I would have never imagined that such evil lurked within his soul.

"Look, Connor, Jimmy went off the rails," Michael snarled. "I need someone, and by someone I mean you, to find my god-damned sister and make sure she is in one piece."

I cowered into the door, distancing myself from the monster next to me.

"I took care of that bitch myself. She thought she was going to betray me and live happily ever after with the detective."

He laughed hollowly, a sound I remembered clearly from the night this whole nightmare started. I curled my knees into my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

"No," Michael continued. "Why would I.... Damn it!" he yelled suddenly. "I'll do it right now."

He immediately disconnected the call and slid the phone into the pocket of his deep gray suit coat. Though his hair was in disarray, he was still the penultimate businessman. He was dressed in one of my favorite Armani suits with a white dress shirt and a gunmetal gray tie.

Michael clenched his teeth as he scanned the horizon. Within minutes, he was slowing the vehicle. I stared expectantly at him, but he felt no need to explain his actions to me. As the SUV came to a complete stop on the side of the deserted road, I desperately grasped the door handle, ready to leap from the car and begin running through the nearby forest.

Michael chuckled darkly. "I'm not stupid, Blythe," he stated nonchalantly as he disengaged the keys from the steering column. His jade eyes met mine and he smirked. "Your door won't unlock for you, babe. I'll be a gentleman and let you out."

He pocketed the keys as he rounded the car. Puzzled, I watched as he slowly removed his coat and tie. Next, he unhooked his shoulder holster and set it on the hood of the car. When he started to unbutton his dress shirt, my heart began galloping. I rubbed my sweaty palms along my jeans. I wondered if there would be enough time for me to catch him off guard and escape. The idea fled my mind as Michael reached into his holster and removed his gun.

My door clicked as it opened, and I slowly faced the man of my nightmares. I winced when he grabbed my arm and pulled me from the vehicle. I stumbled on the uneven ground, but Michael's hand jerked me upright.

"Strip," he ordered.

My eyes widened and my body froze. He couldn't be serious. It was broad daylight and we were on the side of a highway. We'd passed very few cars in the last hour, but that didn't mean they were nonexistent.

"I said strip, babe," his deadly voice repeated.

"Wh-wh-why?"

The burn of his back hand across my already tender cheek was unexpected, and I felt the sting of his ring as it split my skin. The taste of copper filled my mouth, and I licked the blood from my throbbing lip.

"That's why,"" Michael roared. "Now do what I damn well tell you!"

With shaking hands, I began to unhook the buckles on my wedge heels. I kicked them away from my body and watched them land near the edge of the tree line. Nausea assaulted me as I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my hips. I met Michael's frigid stare as he watched me with lust filled eyes.

"The shirt." He gestured to my peasant top, and when I hesitated to remove it, he closed the distance between us. "When I give you an order, Blythe, you need to listen." With gun still in hand, he reached forward and ripped the shirt in two. I was too stunned to take advantage of his movement, and within seconds, he was once again standing with gun raised.

He circled me, stalking like a panther as he scanned my body from head to toe. My blush colored lingerie did very little to hide my body from his leer. Disgust roiled in my belly when Michael ran his hand over my ass during his last pass. As he returned to the front of me, he caressed my ears, which I thought odd until he next spoke.

"Good. No bugs," he muttered to himself.

He retrieved his dress shirt from the hood of the car and tossed it to me.

"Put this on," he ordered, and this time, I complied immediately. He shoved me roughly toward the SUV, and just as I settled into the passenger seat, I heard him whisper a curse.

"Stay here."

He slammed the door and began walking toward the back of the car. Once he was out of sight, I twisted to look out the back window. My breath caught when I noticed a Toyota Tundra park behind us. An attractive brunette man stepped out of the truck. He looked to be in his early twenties. I wanted to bang on the glass and scream for help, but Michael's hand kept palming the gun that now rested in the waistband of his pants. The silent warning was enough for me.

I stared in horror as Michael's friendly mien dissolved and he pulled the gun on the now frightened Good Samaritan. The man was trembling, but he nodded and handed Michael a ring of keys. Michael nodded toward the SUV and the man reluctantly trudged toward the vehicle. When Michael opened the back door, the man began to climb into the car.

"No worries, man," Michael said calmly. "I'll crack the windows for you, so it won't get too hot."

He shut the door and walked around the car, smiling serenely for the first time in hours. As promised, he turned the ignition and lowered each window about two inches. Once that was done, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me over the console. He slammed the door, locked the car, and tossed the keys in the direction of my abandoned shoes.

The asphalt burned my feet as Michael pulled me to the burgundy truck. Once he opened the door, his arm snaked around my waist, and he lifted me into the air. He pushed me into the cab of the truck and waited for me to climb over the arm rest. When I didn't move fast enough, he used the excuse to palm my ass and give me a little shove. I whimpered when my face smashed into the window, but I hurriedly settled into the seat and buckled. I lifted my hand to my cheek and wiped a stray tear.

Michael jumped into the truck, and within seconds, we were back on the road.

"Now, that's better," he cooed, a sudden lightness to his tone.

My eyes blurred with unshed tears as I stared at my naked legs. I gripped the edge of Michael's shirt and tried to pull it down as far as possible. Leaning my head against the window, I surrendered to the sudden defeat that surged through me. Later, I would need to fight, but as long as Michael was driving, he wasn't a threat. I would rest and save my strength, because later? Later I would have the fight of my life.

A few miles later, we came to a fork in the road, and Michael began to whistle, happy to be on the road to apparent freedom. I lay my head against the cool glass of the window and slowly closed my eyes, surrendering to sleep.