32 Thirty Two

The road seemed to be never-ending.

There were hardly any lamp posts in this side of town, and only Rowen’s headlights provided illumination down the long stretch of road. In the passenger seat next to him sat his masked captor, whose pistol remained aimed at him the entire drive.

The only time the stranger would speak was to give him directions. Rowen hadn’t the faintest idea where they were headed, but they were already several miles outside of town.

Sometimes another car or two would pass by, and Rowen would hope a driver bothered to look their way and notice. Alas, it was much too dark at this hour, and the stranger’s black mask practically made his face blend with the shadows.

This had to be the same asshole who was harassing Hayleigh. A part of him felt a sense of relief that at least he was the one dealing with this situation and not her. His hands already itched to tear the mask off the bastard’s face once he disarmed and rendered him unconscious.