Short Story from Gracie O'Neil Author Paranormal Romantic Suspense

“Get out,” Finn told me in a tight voice. “And don’t do anything stupid. We want your car, not you.”

I was more than happy to get out. Unfortunately, the man wedging his bulk into the front passenger’s seat beside me had other ideas. As I fumbled for the seat belt release he reached over and grabbed a handful of my jacket.

“Not so fast,” he said, yanking me round to face him.

My heart lurched into my throat as I recognised him. Michael Jukes. Which meant the man behind me was probably his brother Philip. Two peas from the same deviant pod. Between them, the Jukes boys had done everything; armed robbery, drug running, kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, statutory rape... Not that any of the vicitms had dared come forward; the Jukes got away with it all. And now it seemed they had hooked up with Finn--Finn, of the molten temper and granite heart, whose reputation was the kind only spoken of in whispers, and behind closed doors.

“Well, look who we found!” Michael Jukes grinned at me. “It’s little Abby Morris, all grown up. And I thought this trip was going to be a waste.”

At the expression in his eyes the chill in my gut grew colder.

“We don’t have time for that,” said Finn in that same tight voice.

From the rear seat Philip Jukes snorted. “Mike’s always got time for that!”

“Not today he hasn’t.”

“When we get to the boat, then.” Michael twisted his hand tighter in my jacket and pushed me upright. “Plenty of sea between here and Australia.” His grin widened. “Relax, Finn. Get in the back. Abby can drive.”

For a frozen moment Finn stood still, rain running in rivulets down his oilskin. Then he shrugged. “Whatever.” His dripping face disappeared from outside the driver’s window and I heard him slide into the seat behind me. The door slammed shut.

In the rear view mirror I caught the swift glance that flashed between Philip and Michael and my heart plummeted lower than the Stock Market on Black Friday. Unless I changed things, I had roughly thirty-five minutes before meeting a fate not only worse than, but also inclusive of, death.

We were a kilometre from McCrae’s woolshed when I made my move. With a sudden wrench at the wheel I ploughed my foot to the floor and aimed the car into the overhanging bank.

In spite of Michael Jukes’ furious efforts to seize control of the vehicle the results on impact were gratifying. I'd been wearing a seatbelt. The Jukes boys hadn’t bothered. I wasn’t sure about Finn. I thumped the crumpled driver's door hard with fists and feet and finally managed to shove it wide enough to squeeze out into the pouring semi-darkness.

Then I ran like hell.

I should have run faster. His contact with the windscreen had made a mess of Michael Jukes’ face, but it hadn’t seemed to slow him down much otherwise. His rugby tackle took me to the ground. But I'd learned a few things in the twenty years since he'd tried the same approach on me behind the old dental clinic. And I'd had one hell of a teacher.

My reaction was automatic. It would have done the job too--probably permanently--if Finn hadn't shouted a warning. Michael twisted away, his head jerked back, and the broken shard of the wing mirror I'd snatched up from the wreck as I ran missed his face and slammed into his shoulder. For a second he stared at me in utter disbelief, one hand pressed around the glass protuding from the oilskin. Then he realised where I'd been aiming.

“My eye!” he breathed. "My God! You'd have killed me. You little bitch."

If he'd been thinking he would've used his weight and strength instead of his remaining fist. But he wasn't thinking. He was feeling. And he wasn't feeling happy. He wanted blood for blood, and by the time Finn hauled him off me there was was plenty of that. The only good thing was that punching me jarred his shoulder and hurt him too.

“Kill her.” Philip Jukes snarled through shattered teeth. “Go on, Mike! Finish her off.”

“Why make it quick?” Finn stood between the Jukes and me, his voice as hard and as cold as the rain. “I’ve got a better idea. We’ll dump her in McCrae’s pit on the way to the mooring. She’ll be safe enough there till tomorrow. Let’s not let her screw up the exchange tonight.” He eyed the bleeding Jukes brothers. “There's a first aid kit on the boat. When we get to the mooring, why don’t you two sail around to Ngatai Bay while I bring the quad back to pick up the stuff from the car. I’ll meet you at McCrae’s place.”

Michael's hot eyes burned through me. "I'm not leaving her alive.”