Someone Like Her(62)

 She glanced at him. He really wasn’t bad looking with his Latino features, but as hard as she tried to find any semblance to her, she couldn’t. No way this man was her daddy, she decided, and prayed it was true.

 “Find an ATM,” he said, lifting the gun.

 “Unless you want to be sitting on the side of the road out of gas, you need to let me find a station first.” Where this courage to speak up to him with the black hole of a gun barrel pointed at her came from, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. What she couldn’t decide was whether or not to tell him he might be her father. Would that help or make things worse?

 “There.” He pointed to a Shell station ahead on the right. “You get out and fill the tank and don’t try anything funny. Don’t think I won’t shoot you.”

 There went taking off when he got out. On to plan B. She slipped her purse onto her shoulder before leaving the car. Plan B was to run inside the station, but he was waiting at the back of the car when she came around the trunk.

 Plan C then. She dug out her credit card and swiped it. “I have to pee,” she said after removing the nozzle from the car’s tank and putting it back on the pump.

 “No, you don’t.” He lifted his chin. “Get in.”

 Although the gun was in his pocket, so was his hand. No doubt he had his finger on the trigger. She crossed her legs. “Yes, I do. Please, I don’t want to pee in my pants.”

 He glanced from her to the station and back. “You try anything and not only will I shoot you, but also anyone else nearby.”

 He grabbed the bathroom door before she could pull it closed behind her. “I’ll be right here. Hurry up.”

 She did have to pee, or at least she had to before a crazy man with a gun stood on the other side of the cracked door. Unable to bring herself to pull her panties down with him standing there, she hurriedly rummaged through her purse for her phone. Unable to talk with him listening, she wondered whose number she should call. Jake was on his flight by now, and her brother was on his way to DC. That left one person. She dialed Jamie’s number.

 “You have thirty seconds before I come in.”

 In a panic, she pushed the phone into her bra, hoping Jamie answered and not a recording. Then she prayed he was smart enough to catch on and listen. She flushed the toilet, then turned on the tap. When she went to grab her purse from the door hook, she remembered the tracking device Jake had put in it.

 “Thank you, Jake,” she whispered. Afraid Fortunada might take her purse away at some point, she fumbled with the lining until she felt the device, pulled it off the tape, and stuck it too in her bra. As long as Fortunada didn’t make her strip, she at least had two ways for them to find her.

 The door flew open, and startled, she shrieked, dropping her purse. “It’s a sad day when a girl can’t even pee in private,” she muttered, bending down to pick up her purse. “Not that a Shell station is my favorite place to pee,” she added, praying Jamie was listening.

 “Whatcha got in there,” he said, snatching the strap out of her hand.

 “That’s mine, Mr. Fortunada.” Did you hear who I’m with, Jamie? God, she wished she knew if he was listening.

 Ignoring her, Fortunada rummaged through it, finally settling on taking the forty or so dollars in her wallet. He pushed her out of the bathroom and with his fingers digging into her elbow, he steered her to the cooler. After grabbing a tall can of beer, he herded her to the counter. As he paid for the beer with her money, Maria tried to catch the attention of the clerk. When he finally glanced at her, she mouthed the word “help.” He grinned and in heavily accented English said, “Have nice day.”

 If only. “Great place you got here,” she said. “Never knew there was a Shell station on Lumford Street.”

 The clerk’s head bobbed. “Have nice day.”

 “Shut up,” Fortunada growled as he pushed her out the door.

 Back on the road with a full tank of gas, she drove in a wide circle, keeping the Shell station in the center, hoping Fortunada wouldn’t notice. So far, he’d been enjoying his beer too much to give her directions. Did the creep even have a plan?

 “Find a money machine,” he finally said.

 The only one she knew the exact location of was near her apartment. “There’s one on College, not too far from here.” That would get them back into her neighborhood.

 “Go there.” He crushed the empty can, then tossed it onto the back seat. “Why’d you come to my house?”