“I don’t need your wallet.” Her ferocity feels more like that of a cornered prey than a predator’s. It strikes me as odd, but Ican’t afford to think too long. “I just need you to drive.”
Odd answer. Very, very odd answer.
“Alright,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’ll drive. Just put the blade away.”
“N-no,” she coughs. “You’ll—you’ll take me to the cops.”
“I’m a nurse.” I force a small smile. “I wouldn’t harm you. Can’t, really. Swore an oath and everything.”
“No offense, but so can my jugular. And New York traffic isn’t exactly smooth sailing.” I pull out of the parking lot as carefullyas I can. “Way too many potholes here.”
Her head sways in the rearview mirror. Her arm wanders away from my body, but not intentionally.
She’s about to pass out.
I see my chance. Bef
