OK so a few things before we get started:

Thank you SO much for your support regarding this fic and all the kind words, reviews, follows and favs. You've been incredibly patient and I'm still shocked that you're here for this insane ride years later. I do hope that you see it out till the end with me not that it's anywhere near finished..

I'm kind of buttering you up because this next chapter… well lets just say it's going to be rough but please trust that I won't let you down (there is more to this story than meets the eye) which will come to fruition soon.

I realise Olivia has just had her shoulder dislocated and there would be a whole medical scenario required coupled with the fact that it would potentially take weeks to heal BUT for the sake of this story and my laziness (side eyes) lets just imagine it's one of those really clean dislocations where you can just pop it right back in and Bob's your uncle. They do exist, I promise. I looked them up on youtube. All they need are some heavyset painkillers and some ice for the swelling.. if it ever gets to that (more side eyes).

Ok lets do this.

X


Her fingers grip the door handle as she feels him accelerate towards a sharp corner and all she can think is fuck-fuck-fuck.

As they near the bend and she presses her eyes closed. She feels him take the corner too sharply, two wheels practically lift to the side as he rounds the bend and she thinks - they're gonna flip, they're gonna flip. She wants to scream from the overbearing sensation and then she loses it, crying his name out but he's correcting the wheel before it tips, gaining enough leverage to straighten up mid bend before the car comes thudding back down. She opens her eyes just in time to see them clear the highway barrier, her fingers clutching to anything she can secure, her heartbeat hammering in her chest.

Jesus Christ.

She half expects to hear sirens in the distance at the speed they are going but it's only the roaring engine that fills her ears.

She wants to demand he slow downbut the words remain trapped in her throat, her only solace is the pain in her shoulder is now stifled by unrelenting bouts of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her mind is circling wildly as to why. Why are they driving in a stolen vehicle? Why are they driving at top speed? Why isn't he talking, explaining, comforting or reasoning with her? Why is that deathly stoic silent stranger from the trailer back and why does she feel like this is only just the beginning..

He takes another corner, this time over shooting it and her stomach drops out from under her because this is it. She feels her body slide in her seat, her fingers clinging to the doorframe and her seatbelt as she braces herself. Her eyes pinch closed and it feels like slow motion, the wheels screeching, her cries drowned out by the tyres. Her seatbelt locks violently against her chest. She expects impact, she expects an airbag to the face, and shards of shattered glass to rip into her skin but the wheels unlock just in time for him to straighten up and it's just the side panel that produces a shrill tone as the metal of his door scrapes against the highway barrier.

She watches sparks of heat ignite from the contact and she's going to be sick.

"Stop the car," she whispers as her fingers dig into upholstery. The side of the car is still getting torn to shreds, her seatbelt still cutting into her neck. She sinks back into her seat, tugging the material away from her throat, trying to gasp for a breath.

"Slow the hell down Elliot," she chokes as moisture pools at the corners of her eyes. "For Godsake please," her voice cracks part way as she pleads but he doesn't respond. Then she can feel it, another corner approaching and when she sees the bend something flicks inside and she moves up, launching for his forearm, connecting with the terse muscle that's clenching the gear stick.

She cannot face another corner, she's going to be sick - at any moment she is going to hurl in this car and both her and Elliot are going to be wearing it. "Pull over goddamn it!" She rasps as her fingernails dig into his flesh as she practically pierces his skin.

"Fuck!" he calls out, trying to shake off her hand but he's in the midst of changing gears so he can't let go. She digs in deeper and his hand slips off whacking her firmly before he regains control of the gearshift. "You're gonna get us killed," he barks at her.

But she doesn't stop, her hand is back on his wrist, fingers biting in deep until he grasps her wrist violently and twists it back without warning.

"Ughhh," she screams out in agony, snatching her hand back, clutching it against her chest, her mouth parted in shock. "You son of a bitch," she whispers at him in complete disbelief, her mind reeling at the pain he had just inflicted to her good arm.

She watches as he takes the next corner and her eyes narrow in fury.

These winding roads will be the death of her.

She makes a snap decision, instead going straight for the gun he's left wedged in the console. She brings it up, her hands shaking at just what she intends to do. When he sees it out of the corner of his eyes he does a double take but with his hands on the wheel going full speed he can't do a thing about it.

"Are you fucking crazy?" he rasps loudly. "Put it down Olivia."

"Pull over," she rasps sternly, holding her breath. Her voice has dropped a full octave, suddenly she's in control now.

You wanna be in control for a while baby.

She hears Lewis' voice and flinches at the memory, her throat starting to close over as the fumes of the car take her right back to the trunk.

Ain't we got fun.

"Pull the goddamn car over," she chokes before she pulls back the safety.

But he isn't listening, he isn't taking her seriously, he doesn't know who he's up against anymore.

"I swear to God Elliot," she seethes.

"You're not going to shoot me," he spits back, as if the concept were moronic.

You don't have it in you.

She closes her eyes, taking a breath, Lewis' voice – his torment, is determined to haunt her indefinitely. The anger pulsating through her veins is overtaking until she lifts the gun, holding it a generous distance from his head until she's guaranteed to miss him before she determinedly pulls the trigger.

The gunshot rips through the car in seconds, glass from the window shattering to pieces, showering down on Elliot. He slams his foot down on the break, calling out in shock as the car careens uneasily across the road rotating a half circle as if they'd just hit ice. The car breaks finally lock into place as they come to a complete stop in the opposite direction.

Her head thuds back against the car seat as the steam from their tyres rise around them and she can finally breathe again.

She is snapped back into reality. What the hell did she just do?She is shaking. She could have killed him for the second time tonight. She could have killed them both. Her mouth is dry, the bile still permeating in her stomach, she really is going to be sick. She needs to get out, out of this car. She's disoriented, still trying to catch her breath. Her fingers are pawing at the door-handle, trying to unsuccessfully open it when she hears him rip off his seatbelt and suddenly he is launching for the gun.

She moves it behind her hip instinctively with a yell, wedging it into the seat but he doesn't waste time, he is grabbing her good elbow trying to bring her arm back around but she's resisting him. He moves in further, his body knocking into her sore shoulder and she calls out in pain. She tries to twist herself away from him until suddenly she is flat up against the passenger window. Their eyes meet, he is livid - the gun is behind her and she can tell and he isn't going to take no for an answer.

"Olivia - the fuck," he raps at her. "Give me the goddamn gun."

She swallows. She's bent herself in a position that gives him no option but to press her firmly into the window as he reaches for it. She cries out in pain once more trying to push back against his weight but her strength is futile. She winces as he reaches behind her and snatches the gun.

"Screw you," she spits as he lifts his weight off her, her cut fingers aching as she attempts to avoid more glass that has been shattered across her seat.

He moves back to his seat, gun in hand and he's shaking his head at her in absolute disbelief at what she just did.

Her chest is heaving, but she is glaring right back at him with equal detest.

That's when his eyes narrow.

"Get out of the car," he rasps.

She narrows his eyes back at him. "No."

"Now," he repeats, only this time he isn't waiting for her, he is out of his door in seconds, slamming it shut and moving around to her side.

Her heart beat thrums with adrenaline at just what he intends to do. She whips around quickly slamming the car lock down with both hands.

He tries to open the door a few times to no avail. He goes for the back seat but she is too fast, slamming that door lock down too. Their eyes meet through the frosted glass, her heart hammering at the feeling that she's being hunted. Again.

Ain't we got fun.

"You've got five seconds Olivia," he barks and she can barely hear him through the window.

"One.. two…"

He begins to count down and she cannot believe her eyes when she sees him start to raise the gun.

"Three.. four…"

But all she can think is, he's not going to shoot, he's not going to shoot, he's not going to shoot.

Those are her last words before thousands of glass shards shatter down around her as she covers her head.

Five.

TBC