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If pressed, Beth would have guessed that the guy tailing her would’ve looked a little more… intimidating. This guy looks like a bad caricature of an ambulance chaser, but she can see the glint of metal against the glass in the dim glow of the nearest street light. Swallowing, she steels herself and looks into the man’s light eyes--he waves the gun in a get on with it gesture, and she unbuckles her seatbelt. He steps back and straightens as she opens the door with ice in her veins.
“You’re not my Uber driver,” she says, voice steady and throat dry.
“No,” the man replies easily. “But I am gonna take you on a ride.”
Ew.
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