The Woman with the Scar (Costa Family)

You know, the one that was going to lead in the direction of the fallout shelter.

“The fuck is wrong with you today?” he hissed after I did a hard brake, wanting to see if I could get his phone to fly out of his reach as I knew he was going to see we were completely going the wrong way at that point.

“Hey, where are you going?” he yelled, voice getting a bit sharp, maybe worried.

I had just managed to park the car when he finally thought to hit the button for the privacy glass.

He couldn’t have known I’d already taken off my belt, grabbed my supplies, and was waiting.

To launch myself through as soon as it was down.

The back doors had the child lock on.

He had no way out.

Except back through the privacy window. And my wiry ass barely fit, so I knew he wasn’t going to be able to get away from me.

“Who the fuck…” he hissed, eyes huge, as I threw myself through the divider.

“Don’t think so, man,” I said as he fumbled around at his ankle, likely trying to get a gun out of its holster.

Ankle holster guns were a good back up. But in my experience, you wanted your main weapon closer in reach.

You know, like mine.

In my waistband.

Right there where I needed it, grabbing it, flipping it, and holding it by the muzzle as I struck out with it, catching him on the eyebrow ridge, the pain shocking him enough that he forgot all about his gun, reaching up instead to grab his face.

“You can fight it,” I said, turning, using my elbow to strike him in the face.

Once.

Twice.

Three times a charm.

“But it won’t do you any good,” I added as his body slumped. Out cold.

Contrary to what you see in movies, people never stay knocked-out long.

You had to act fast.

The duct tape slapped over his mouth first.

“Can’t have you calling for help, now, can we? How many times did she call for help and no one came?” I asked as I tossed him onto the floor in front of him, coming down on his back, wrenching his arms behind his back, and slipping the zip ties on.

“Eh, guess we should go all out, yeah?” I asked, reaching for the duct tape again.

Most people knew how to get out of zip ties these days. You had to be prepared for that.

Besides, he was a sturdy guy. You could never underestimate the strength of anyone in the life-or-death sort of situation. And especially not someone with some bulk behind all their panic.

I wasn’t stupid.

If it came down to brute force, Eren could probably take me.

Which made it all the more infuriating that he used all that strength against his defenseless “wife.”

“Yeah, there you are,” I mumbled as his whole body jolted just as I was wrapping the duct tape around his ankles. “Scared as fuck now, aren’t you?” I asked, rolling him onto his back once again so I could smirk down at him. “Oh, yeah, look at that panic in your eyes.”

Against the duct tape, he was saying or screaming something.

“You know who I am?” I asked, wondering if the panic in his eyes was generalize or specific.

A quick jolt of his head said no.

He might not have known me on sight, but I was going to go ahead and bet he sure as shit knew me by name and reputation.

“Brio Costa ring a bell?” I asked, watching as his whole face went slack in terror. “Yeah, looks like it does. See, funny thing, man, this has nothing to do with how you’ve been fucking over my Family for years. Nah, this is personal. Why don’t you think on that while I drag your body out of this fancy town car, huh?” I asked, hopping over him to go back into the front seat to disengage the child locks.

I took a slow, deep breath, smiling up at the sky as I moved outside.

“I’d say sorry,” I said to whatever god might be listening. “But you know I’m not,” I added, going toward the back door, and opening it up. “Come on, man, you and me are going to have some fun now,” I said, reaching inside for his legs because they were closest, and starting to haul him out.

It wasn’t easy to pull someone around. Not when they were knocked-out and dead weight, and damn sure not when they were thrashing their bodies around like a beached fish.

But, hey, anything was possible when you were determined enough.

“Head is knocking against them stairs, huh?” I asked once I got him inside, and locked the street doors behind us, just in case. “Gonna get a massive headache if you don’t smarten up and tuck your chin to your chest,” I advised as I kept pulling him downward.