<div class="floatleft">(http://distractionsink.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/reno1-227x350.jpg)</div>Marc was turning the plan over and over in his head. It all came back to the same thing: he'd kill Marty if he fucked them over. Even if he'd just wasted his evening, he was fed up with his shit.<br/><br/>His fantasy of finally dealing with the shithead evaporated when he felt his phone vibrate. When he read it, his eyes shot towards the entrance of the club and he saw them.<br/><br/>He put<em>The Tempest</em>into gear and rolled out of the parking lot across the street. He felt like peeling out he was so eager to get under way, but cooler heads prevailed. His eyes scanned the blonde bimbo as she rested her head on Jackie-D's shoulder. The light was dim, but it was her. It had to be her.<br/><br/>He pulled in alongside them and unlocked the doors. "Howdy miss." He gave his best impression of a do-goodie sap. "Have a seat, we'll get ya home." He'd wasted his words though, she was out cold.<br/><br/>The plan was for her to sit in the back with her the whole drive. The last thing they'd need is her coming to and suddenly attacking him while he was driving. Or signaling for help somehow when he wasn't looking.<br/><br/>After pulling away and getting onto the highway, he reached under his seat and withdrew the duct tape and the pocket knife. "Bind her wrists and ankles, just in case. If we get pulled over, cut it off of her fast." He doubted they'd have any trouble with the cops. He was sober and driving like a boy scout. Both went against his grain, but sacrifices had to be made.<br/><br/>It was a long drive to the cabin. After an hour they got away from the city lights. It would be another hour or so until they'd wound their way up the mountain. He wanted to tell her to crawl into the front seat and give him some road head, but he forced himself to forget about it. For one, what if her gagging or his groaning woke her up? She was good and could make him get loud. That wasn't even mentioning how difficult it would be to drive these damned curvy slopes while he was cumming down her throat.<br/><br/>No, he'd get some action when they were at the cabin. Between rounds, he'd let her wax romantic about where they'd go, and what they'd do when they collected this bimbo's ransom.<br/><br/>He'd send the ransom note once he got a photo of her with a copy of tomorrow morning's newspaper. Then they'd wait to get paid and start their new life.