Fists of Injustice Excerpt
I
wake with a start in the back of an unfamiliar vehicle. An unfamiliar
sports car, actually. This leather . . . “Wh-where am I?”
“Welcome
to my mode of transportation.”
Turning
slightly, I see Jeremy looking at me through the rear-view mirror
before turning back to focus on driving. “You’re not getting any
other sudden, violent urges are you?”
I
sit up and rub the back of my head that hurts, but feels like it’s
mine. All mine. “No… What happened?”
“I
rendered you unresponsive until you were out of the trigger area of
the dormant hypnotism put on you,” Olivia offers from the shotgun
seat, not looking up from her laptop.
Jeremy
laughs as he switches lanes. “In other words, she hit you upside
your head.”
At
his words, I notice where the source of the throbbing is on the back
of my head. “Oh . . .”
“And
I may or may not have helped her put you in the back of my car,” he
adds. “But before you put up any charges, just know my family has a
very good lawyer. An entire law firm, actually.”
I
frown.
“We
need your special insight on what’s going on,” Olivia adds.
“Right
. . . You mean like the hypnotism, right? Because I don’t know much
beyond that.”
Olivia
nods. “That’s all you need to know.”
Jeremy
laughs again. “I feel like we’re the beginning of a bad joke. The
nerd, the goody-good, and the rich kid walked into a bar . . .”
I
frown. “I’d never walk into a bar.”
Olivia
sniffs. “Alcohol dims the mind.”
Shaking
his head, Jeremy turns into the freeway. “Like I said— it’s a
bad joke.”
Buckling
up, I lean forward as much as my seat-belt will let me. “So, we
know where we’re going?”
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