Page 8 of Final Verdict
“I said, you can trust me.”
“That’s not what you—” Her voice trails off for a second, as if she might’ve misheard my words. “Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because at this very moment, you really don’t have a choice…”
She tugs on the door again, as if something has changed.
“What’s your address?” I ask. “I’m feeling quite generous tonight.”
“I wasn’t going home just yet,” she says. “I was running from...I mean, I’m going home eventually, but I listed two other stops first.”
I’m confused as to why she’s telling me this.
“They’re all in lower Manhattan—pretty close to where I live. So, are you feeling generous enough to drive me to those too, or should I rebook with a real Uber?”
“You should rebook with a real fucking Uber,” I say. “I’m willing to take you home and that’s it. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll leave it.” She huffs. “Let me out of this car.”
“Gladly.” I pull over into the first open space I see.
Then I step out and walk to the back, opening the door.
Grabbing her things, she gets out and avoids looking directly at me like I’ve done something wrong.
I look her over—again and again—still stunned that she’s this fucking beautiful.
“Thank you so much for being such a gentleman, sir,” she says, her eyes on the buildings behind me.
“You’re very welcome.” I smile. “Thank you for saving me an unnecessary trip. I appreciate it.”
“Ugh. Really?” She shakes her head, looking like she’s waiting for me to apologize or re-offer her the expired deal.
“Make sure you’ve grabbed everything from my backseat.” I point to the left. “Then step onto the sidewalk over there.”
She rolls her eyes and steps back, but then she looks over her shoulder and her face pales to a ghostly white.
Gasping, she jumps back into my car, diving headfirst to the floorboard.
“I’ll take it, I’ll take it!” She screams. “Just take me home, please!”
I stare at her as she adjusts her position, as she exposes a small blue butterfly tattoo that’s inked between her thighs, right below where she’s wearing a pair of black lace panties.
Fuck…
I look to where she was glancing down the street and don’t see anyone, but I decide to be nice and renew my offer.
Just this once.
Shutting the back door, I slide behind the wheel and pull onto the road again.
I manage to drive two miles before I realize that this woman is still crouched on the floorboard, and she still hasn’t given me her address.
I’ll give her twenty more seconds.
SELF INCRIMINATION (N.)
MAKING STATEMENTS OR PRODUCING EVIDENCE WHICH TENDS TO PROVE THAT ONE IS GUILTY OF A CRIME.
