Maverick

The dingy gas station stood attached to an abandoned garage and sat back from the main road meant for truckers at one point in time. After stopping by a drive-thru, India raced down the swirly road out of town toward a forgotten about and hidden garage. I kept my distance so she didn’t get suspicious and parked on the side of the road by the driveway.

I only had seconds before she’d be inside, so I hauled ass toward her. A million different scenarios played out in my head, none of them ended well, but I had to try.

She heard the crunch of the rocks beneath my shoes, turned and I sideswiped her. I’d never hit a woman in my life, but this cunt needed more than a tackle.

“Oh my God!” she squeaked, but stopped when she realized who hit her. Her eyes rounded, and her lips opened in a surprised look.

Keeping her beneath me, I entrapped her wrist above her head and noticed her struggle to get a stun gun from her purse scattered beside us. Perfect, now I have some leverage.

I snatched it and