Twisted Passion

Beating the Bushes

Disclaimer: All characters and situations are completely original and my own invention.

Author’s Note: Can someone PLEASE tell me how to put italics in the text? No matter what I do, it won’t work. That’s why I have to use the ‘/’ when the voice in Nathan’s head is talking.

lll

He had to know. There was no way around it. Before Nathan Williams-Taylor allowed the tenuous grip on his already strained sanity to get the better of him, he had to know her history. As soon as he had awoken, Nathan reached for his cell and dialled a number from his contact list.

Jake Palladino, a lead member of the Special Operations Group or SOG division of the FBI, had specialized in both surveillance and investigation. Unscrupulous, greedy and relentless in the hunt for information as a dog on the trail of a hot scent, he was a natural at ferreting out the deepest, darkest secrets of a person’s life.

Rising gambling debts made him realize that he needed to extend his services beyond the public sector. He resigned from the Bureau. Because of a few satisfied and well-heeled clients, he came to the notice of Nathan Williams-Taylor. Mostly it was to find out the hidden secrets of Taylor’s business competitors and contemporaries, but occasionally he had also looked into the personal history of whatever woman caught the multimillionaire’s eye.

Jake’s services didn’t come cheap but in all the times Nathan had hired him in the past, the expense was definitely worth it.

After the sixth ring, Jake picked up his cell answering with a stream of curses before he ground out, “Who the fuck is this?”

Nathan grit his teeth to force himself to remain calm. He had learned a long time ago that if you wanted to hire the best, sometimes you had to put up with their bullshit. Still, it never hurt to remind Jake of who paid the bills. “Watch your tone, Jake. Remember who signs your checks. I’ve got a job for you.”

Jake, bleary eyed and bad-tempered from too much booze and not enough sleep, was wide-awake in seconds. Any job from the man on the other end of the phone meant money in the bank.

A whole fucking lot of it.

Enough to keep the Mob collection goons quiet…for a while. As a result, Jake couldn’t afford to turn a job down, especially if it came from Mister High and Mighty. While it was true that Taylor was a pompous asshole, Jake knew what to say to smooth his employer’s easily ruffled feathers. It was as simple as the old nursery rhyme: Yes sir, no sir, three bags full, sir.

“Sorry about that, sir. It won’t happen again. What’s up?”

“I need you to find out everything and anything that you can about a girl named Claire Brady. She is staying in West Haven now, but she lived in Canada for a while. Because of that, you might have to do a little deeper digging than usual. You up for it?”

“Yes, sir. I still have contacts in the RCMP, so it’ll be no sweat. You want the usual: medical, mental, money?” Jake asked, already scribbling notes on the pad of paper he always kept beside his phone.

“Yes. And personal as well. Beat the bushes and see what scuttles out. Nothing you can find out about her is off limits, including if she is a dyke or has any STDs. Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to go up to Canada and get the information yourself. Don’t subcontract this out. This has to stay strictly between you and me, do you understand?”

“No prob. Goin’ all that way is gonna cost you though…I’ll need some cash for expenses.”

“I’ll wire you ten grand as soon as I hang up. If you need more, you’ll get it.”

Holy shit, Jake thought as he whistled soundlessly. He tried to sound casual as if he always got five figures put into his bank account every day. “Yeah, it’ll do for a start. You still want the stuff the usual way?”

“Yes. Give me everything at once, not dribs and drabs.”

“Because I gotta go up there myself, it might take longer to get the info back to you.”

“I understand. Now, get to it.” After he had hung up, Nathan lay back in his bed, his fingers laced together behind his head. Soon Claire, very soon, he thought, I will know everything there is to know about you. And I’ll know if you are worth the trouble I am going to. A passing resemblance is one thing, but I have to know if you have Marjorie’s spirit, her strength.

“If you do,” Nathan said to the darkness, “then that will make breaking you all the more fun.” His groin tingled pleasantly at the thought.

lll

To keep from going insane as he waited to hear from Jake, Nathan busied himself in work. However, it was only a temporary respite. During the daytime, it was easy to be occupied, but there were no distractions at night.

Alone in the dark in his king sized bed, he tossed and turned, unable to find a moment’s rest. The house resounded with the endless ticking of the massive grandfather clock in the hallway….and the utterances from the thing that lived in his head.

However, he knew exactly how to solve that particular pesky problem--large amounts of alcohol and drugs. If the only way he could start or end the day in peace and quiet was having six or eight Percocet washed down with vodka, then so be it.

Still, it didn’t always work.

/ You know you want to…give in to it. /

Nathan knew what the Voice was referring to. Ever since he’d gotten off the phone with Jake, Nathan’s mind had been flooded with images…images he tried hard to suppress: Claire lying helpless beneath him, unable to move as he forced her legs apart. Of hearing her cries of pain as he pounded her without remorse, selfishly intent on seeking his own release to pay attention to hers….

/ Your body, your cock, needs to be satisfied. You know you won’t get any sleep unless you do. /

“Shut up! Just shut the hell up!” Nathan groaned, burying his head under his 600 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. But deep inside, he knew the Voice was right. His thoughts had produced a massive hard-on that would only go away if he jerked off.

/ Too bad you chose to live in the middle of nowhere and not closer to Manhattan. And your whore Marnie. She’d take care of you. /

Nathan groaned, unable to ignore the truth. Marnie certainly would have taken care of his needs, whether she wanted to or not. Her fear of him always made her pussy tight and dry, heightening his pleasure as the rough fucking he’d give her ripped years away from him, making him feel strong and virile again as he had been all those long, lonely years ago. Fucking Marnie, her tiny, delicate fists beating uselessly against his chest and back as she cried and begged from him to stop, always made the experience that much more pleasurable.

It reminded Nathan of the times he’d violated his sister, savouring the feel of her pussy as it clenched tightly around his cock, almost to the point of being painful. Like his paid whore, Marjorie also fought him, clawing at his flesh or pounding him with her fists.

As if that ever did any fucking good.

As payback for her defiance, Nathan would be rough with her—paying no attention to her tears of remorse as she promised not to fight back. And as for her cries of pain, that only pleased him more. While he pounded her harder into the thin mattress, her blood would lubricate his cock as he slid in and out of her small body ….

“Ah, the memories,” Nathan groaned. His mind jolted back to reality, as he realized that he’d spoken aloud. His cock was now fully erect, and during his pleasurable reminisces, he hadn’t realized that his hand now gripped his dick.

/ That’s it, / the Voice crooned inside his head, / You know how to do it. /

Unconsciously, his hand pumped his cock faster and faster, the urge to come was too strong to ignore now. He was coming. His balls tightened and Nathan cried out as his back arched from the mattress and hot seed spilled from his dick and over his hand.

Sated and satisfied, he sank back into his bed, the sheets absorbing the sweat from his back. He panted heavily in the darkness, and until he could breathe properly, he couldn’t remember a time when jacking off had been so pleasurable. He turned over onto his side as the darkness of utter exhaustion reached for him.

Now he could sleep.

lll

Even though he’d heard nothing from Jake after four days, Nathan decided that he had to see Claire again. The hunger, the longing to hear her voice and see her face was gnawing at his gut like a ravenous rat, destroying him from within. If he wanted any peace, the only way to get it was to return to the Wheeler bar.

He pondered long and hard over his attire and since Claire mocked him for wearing a suit, perhaps if she saw him in a pair of well-tailored trousers with an open necked shirt, she might find him more approachable.

lll

Upon entering the bar, Nathan’s eyes immediately scanned the room searching for the object of his desire. But she was nowhere to be found. He did not sit at his usual table but chose a seat at the end of the bar. From that vantage point, he could see everyone who came in or out.

Five, ten, then fifteen minutes ticked by with a slowness that was maddening and Nathan felt his spirits sink. He reached for his coat, making up his mind that if Claire wasn’t working that night, there was no point in staying.

“What’ll it be?” Claire asked from behind him.

Nathan turned around, startled. “Where were you?” he asked bluntly, too surprised and relieved at her sudden appearance to be tactful.

“Excuse me?”

Her cocked eyebrow and the accompanying scowl reminded Nathan that until he had gained her trust, it would be wise to tread softly. He shook his head and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll have a glass of Salvator. Frank will know what it is,” he replied at Claire’s blank look.

“Whatever. Will that be all?”

“For now.” Nathan flashed his most charming smile.

Claire nodded and went to the bar. As she plumped herself on an empty bar stool, she caught Frank’s notice and rolled her eyes expressively.

“What did he want?” Frank asked.

“A glass of Salvator, whatever that is,” Claire responded.

Frank raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A Doppelboch? That’s not his usual drink.” Nevertheless, if that’s what his best customer wanted, that’s what he would get.

Claire jerked her chin toward Nathan. “He must be sick, he’s not wearing a suit. He’s definitely slumming it tonight.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Frank knowledgeably. “He may be dressing down tonight, but those clothes probably cost more than you’ll make in a month.”

Her eyes widened as she gasped theatrically. “Don’t tell me he’s wearing store bought clothes? Off the rack? Say it ain’t so! Did he actually degrade his image and drive here himself? Or is it the limo driver’s night off?”

Frank’s lips twitched in a grin. Claire’s intense dislike of Nathan Williams-Taylor certain came through loud and clear and she did come up with some good zingers. “He drove his own car.”

“What kind of car?”

“His Jag, more than likely.”

Claire snorted in derision. “How awful to have to drive your own car. And wear something off the rack? He’ll never be able to hold his head up in this town again. But then again, I should cut him some slack--the Lamborghini was probably in the shop.”

Frank’s eyes flicked to Nathan’s face and saw his jaw tighten. He had heard everything. Judging by the expression on his face, Nathan Williams-Taylor was not pleased.

Frank decided that it was time to tell his newest employee what was what. “Claire, as much as I like you and your aunt, I can’t have you insulting any of my customers, no matter how obnoxious they might be. They pay for a drink and you serve. That’s your job, so keep your opinions to yourself, okay?” Seeing the hurt look on her face, Frank tempered the sting of his words with a wink.

Claire accepted the reprimand with a nod and a wavering smile that showed how hurt she was. “Got it.”

Frank lingered as long as he dared filling the glass in order to give her more time off her feet but he could only delay so long before his best customer became suspicious why the task of pouring one beer was taking so long.

When Claire returned, Nathan smiled as she placed the glass of heady German beer down. He cleared his throat. “Er, about the other night—”

“Anything else you require?” Claire interrupted, not allowing him to finish his sentence.

“No,” he said. Almost as soon as he spoke, she had spun on her heel and was gone. Nathan nursed his beer and watched as Claire went about her business.

He observed that every customer she served was given a smile or a joke while he received neither. With him, she was reserved and serious. When she brought his drink, she took care to place it on the bar carefully and neatly. He could find no fault with her service whatsoever, but he longed to see her smile.

lll

The night wore on. In order to see and speak to Claire more often, Nathan downed each beer faster than he was accustomed to and as a result, was feeling the effects.

Nathan watched through an alcohol-saturated haze as some of the younger men in the bar drank shooters and shots. Through eyes that were nearly bloodshot, he watched Claire go to their tables several times in the course of an hour to refill their drinks. Nathan concluded that if he ordered the same drinks as they did, she would have to come to his seat more often. And the more times she came over, the more opportunities it afforded for conversation.

She would not be able to resist his charm forever. Every woman he had ever set his sights on gave in eventually. This young woman would follow suit in due time, even if it appeared that this portion of her seduction was proving to be a challenge. So much the better. If her temperament and stubbornness were as fiery as he imagined, winning and wooing her would prove to be a challenge. And any woman that presented a challenge always worth pursuing.

Until the time he tired of her, that is.

The large quantity of alcohol he imbibed was souring in his belly, making promises of the huge hangover he would experience the next morning. Score one for her, he thought.

But if I can’t a response other than ‘yes’ or ‘no’ out of her, I can certainly get information about her. I already have the best man already on the job, sniffing out her secrets. However, I need information that is more personal and who would know more about that than the owner of the only bar in town?

“Frank, come share a drink with me,” Nathan called out. The pub had been busier than usual, owing to a highly advertised pay-per-view WWF wrestling match. Nathan knew that Frank would welcome the invitation as a way to get off his feet for a while.

The proprietor wiped his hands on a towel and joined Nathan at his end of the bar. Sighing, Frank sat down heavily and wasted no time in putting his tired feet up on an unoccupied bar stool.

“Busy night?” Nathan asked with a smile.

“It certainly has been, Mr. Taylor,” Frank responded and both men idly watched the post-match commentary on the television.

“Come on, Frank,” Nathan said in his most engaging manner. “We’ve known each other for a while, haven’t we? Call me Nathan. So, that young woman that you just hired, do you like her?”

“What’s not to like?” Frank said, his eyes registered puzzlement at the abrupt change in topic. If his best customer wanted information about the new girl, who was he to refuse? “Claire’s friendly, polite, and has a hell of a sense of humour.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Nathan said moodily. “All I’m getting tonight is ‘Yes, sir,’ or ‘No, sir.”

Frank chuckled. “Give her time. She’ll warm up to you eventually.” But he doubted it.

“I’ve been in West Haven for two years and I’ve never seen her before. What’s her story?”

“She grew up near here in a little town called Valley Cottage. Her father remarried and as the stepmother came from Canada, the family moved there. Claire has only been back for a month or so.”

“Is she staying with family or is she here by herself?”

“Claire is living with her aunt Trudy. The girl showed up on her doorstep in the middle of the night with nowhere else to go. Claire was in a bad way when she arrived and Trudy asked me to hire her until she decides what she wants to do. She says she has never done this kind of work before but she’s not bad at it. The customers like her—if they give her any sass, she gives as good as she gets. She needed a job and I needed someone so it worked out for everybody all around.”

Nathan blinked rapidly to register what he had just been told. “Bad way? What do you mean?”

Frank looked away. Best customer or not, Nathan Williams-Taylor was asking personal questions about something that was none of his business. When Trudy had told him about Claire’s past troubles, she assumed that what she had said would stay strictly between them. He saw Nathan eye him expectantly, waiting for an answer. For a moment, Frank was tempted to tell him. He stiffened his resolve then shook his head. “I’m sorry, but some things are too personal.”

Someone better acquainted with Nathan Williams-Taylor’s darker side would have seen how he detested not having his question answered. Accustomed to getting what he wanted, whenever he wanted, Nathan was very displeased.

lll

During the time that Frank sat with him, Nathan saw signs of Claire’s difficulty in keeping up with the steady demands for refills by the mostly college-aged clientele. She made many mistakes with drink orders but her outgoing nature and cheerful attitude made up for it to some extent. Frank had been right—she was good with people.

Good with everyone but me, Nathan glumly thought to himself. He shrewdly guessed that the patrons didn’t care all that much about their flubbed orders—as long as their drink had alcohol in it, it was good enough for them.

But however warm her smiles were or how infectious her laughter, it did not translate into generous tips.

Nathan took immediate advantage of the quiet chaos before the requests for another round by the other patrons in the bar. “I only wanted to say that I am sorry for my conduct the other day. It was completely uncalled for.” He smiled in an ingratiating manner but Claire was in no mood to fall for his smooth talk.

“You should say that to the girl you humiliated, not me. She was trying her best…Unless there is nothing else, I have other customers to serve. Excuse me,” Claire said and turned away briskly to attend to the noisy group of young men in the corner.

lll

An hour later, Nathan’s musings was interrupted when Claire’s voice broke the silence. “Frank, do you mind if I talk to Kari for a minute?”

“Of course not. Go outside and have a smoke, you’ve earned a break.”

Claire nodded and showed her appreciation for his consideration with a smile that made Nathan’s stomach do a flip-flop. She looked so much like Marjorie, his heart started pounding.

Pretending to be interested in the bar and grill’s menu, Nathan saw Claire go to the table where her friend was waiting. Sitting beside Kari was a young Hispanic man, whose face was dotted with multiple piercings.

Even though Nathan had never been introduced to the fellow, he knew who he was. Jose Hernandez was the man to see if you wanted drugs in West Haven. The three young people had their heads bent together in low conversation but no matter how hard he tried, Nathan could not hear a word.

Nathan watched them over the top of his menu with interest, for Kari remained seated at the table while her boyfriend exited the bar by the front door and Claire went out the back. Nathan excused himself from Frank and swayed unsteadily for a moment on his feet.

“Easy there, Nate. You’ve had a lot of those beers and they’re pretty potent. Should I get Hugh to drive you home?”

Nathan gritted his teeth in annoyance at the easy familiarity. “No. I just need to get some air, that’s all. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Nathan stood outside the exit, letting his eyes get used to the dimness of the light before proceeding around the back of the building. He waited for a few moments until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness. He quickly scanned the alley trying to find Claire. It wasn’t long before he saw her turn the corner. He stood in the shadows and watched.

The young man made his way to her side and Nathan edged his way as close as he dared. He could hear every word as the couple undoubtedly thought they were alone.

“How many do you need and when?”

“Fifty should last me till the end of the week. Give me a minute and I’ll see how cash I’ve got.” She fumbled in the pockets of her jeans, taking out the bills and change of her meagre tips. Claire did a quick calculation. “Thirty-two fifty.”

“That’s it?”

Claire shrugged. “It wasn’t a good night for me.”

“No shit. You know my price—fifty Percs for a hundred bucks.”

“But I don’t have that much!”

“That’s your problem.” Hernandez turned to leave. But he knew that he wouldn’t be going far. Based on Kari’s information, Claire Brady had been without pills for almost a month. She was jonesing and from his experience, it wouldn’t be long before she would offer something else in exchange. Not that he minded, of course. It had been far too long since he’d been able to bury it deep in a woman’s ass. Hernandez smirked as he felt his cock stir. He brought Claire’s hand down to his groin. “Since money is an issue, I’ll take something else as payment.”

Claire jerked her hand away. “I can’t!”

Hernandez smirked. “If it’s that time of the month, there is always…” He bent down and whispered in Claire’s ear.

“No! I...I don’t like doing that! I can never sit down afterwards!”

From the darkness, Nathan watched Claire’s face as she struggled to keep herself calm. She shook her head and tears glimmered in her eyes.

“It’s your loss. Too bad, so sad.” Hernandez had a show of turning around and walking away slowly. Both he and the man in the shadows knew very well that Claire’s addiction would not let the only man who could supply her with drugs go very far.

“Wait!”

Nathan heard the revulsion and pain that Claire felt as her shout echoed hollowly through the alley. He watched as the Hispanic man smirked to himself before he turned around and went back to her.

“We have a deal, then? Fifty Percs for my tips and an ass fuck. ”

The red headed woman lowered her head and her foot scuffed the ground. “Okay, only…could you take it easy?”

“All right, mija. I’ll meet you here when you get off work.” He chucked Claire under the chin. “Just to show what a nice guy I am, I’ll be gentle.”

No, you will never touch her again, you filthy Spic, Nathan thought, his hands clenched into tight fists.

“But if I get the money, then I won’t have to…right?” Claire asked, a note of hope lightening her tone.

Hernandez nodded. “Nope. Not at all. But admit it, girl, the chances of you making sixty bucks in tips in the next hour and a half, are next to impossible. You suck at being a waitress.”

By the time the young people turned away, Nathan had already reached the exit. He put his hand inside his coat pocket and drew out his gold cigar case. He had just finished lighting up as the object of his desire came up to him.

“How long have you been standing there?” Claire asked, her voice tight and suspicious.

In pretended innocence, Nathan faced her. “I just got here and was about to light up. The laws of New York prohibit me from doing it indoors. What about you? I know Frank said you could have a smoke if you wished, but that’s not why you are out here, is it?”

He smiled when he saw the girl’s expression. If she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, she couldn’t have looked guiltier. Even in the dim light, Nathan could see how a blush reddened her face. In that moment, the resemblance to his dead sister was even more striking.

He was grateful for the darkness as it concealed from his companion how hard his hands were shaking. Seeing Claire with her hand already on the door knob, Nathan decided to prolong these precious moments in Claire’s company for as long as possible. “You don’t have to rush off, you know. Frank did say that you could take a break, remember?” He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth when he saw Claire’s eyes flash in anger.

“Do you always fucking make it a habit of eavesdropping on other people’s conversations?”

Before he could think of anything to say, Claire stormed past him and slammed the door behind her.

As Nathan waited for his heart to slow down, a plan began to form in his mind. If fifty of the powerful analgesic would not last her until the end of the week, Claire Brady either had or was developing a serious addiction to prescription painkillers. An addiction that definitely could be used to his advantage.

An image of Hernandez anally fucking Claire flashed through his mind as the thing that lived in his head decided to speak for the first time that night.

/Imagine doing that to Claire,” it crooned softly. /Your cock buried deep in that young, tight ass of hers…. /

“I know,” Nathan groaned softly in the night air, his groin beginning to stir. “But it might be a while until I can get the little twat in bed, damn it!”

/In the meantime, there is always Marnie. She knows how to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. She’ll do until you can get Claire in your bed/

Nathan smiled at the thought. “Marnie will take my money but when it comes to putting out, then she refuses. Or says it is that time of the month. Typical cunt. Lucky for me that what I want tonight doesn’t depend on her being on the rag,” he muttered. He took a step toward the door and stumbled. The strong ale he had consumed made him feel pleasantly numb.

“Damn, I can’t go anywhere tonight,” he grumbled. “Goddamn beer finally caught up with me.” He yanked open the pub door with such force that it nearly knocked him off his feet.

/Aren’t you forgetting something? /

“What?”

/To leave enough money as a tip so Claire doesn’t have to bend over and take it up the ass from that Spic to get her drugs, that’s what. /

Nathan nodded and headed straight for his seat at the bar. As he picked up his coat, he reached into his pocket for his wallet.

/ No. Don’t do that. If you leave the money where you were sitting, then she’ll know it came from you and she might not take it. It would be best if you left it on a table or two that had customers but she hasn’t gotten around to cleaning yet. /

The Voice was right, Nathan realized as he considered how much to leave. Claire only had thirty-two dollars and fifty cents, he remembered. He quickly scanned the area and sighed in relief. The bar crowd had dwindled significantly during the time he was outside and those people who were still there, were grouped around the plasma TV screen, watching what looked to be another pay-per-view wrestling match. As far as Nathan could tell, no one was watching.

As casually as he could and to make doubly sure that she miscounted or he had misheard, he left two twenties at different places on the bar and one at each of the two tables that were nearby. Eighty dollars was more than enough for Claire to buy her painkillers, with some money left over. To see the look on the spic’s face when Claire paid what she owed in full would have been priceless.

His Blackberry beeped and Nathan glanced down at it. He was so intoxicated that he had to squint hard and shake his head before he was able to read what was on the cell phone’s minuscule screen. What he saw filled him with relief: “Got all the goods on the girl. Watch for my email. Jake.”

Nathan Williams-Taylor knew he had to get home. Now.

The problem was that he was too drunk to drive. Even though he was the wealthiest man in Rockland County, he couldn’t bribe his way out of a ticket if he was caught…instead, his blood alcohol level would ensure a quick trip to jail.

As he had done on several occasions in the past when he’d over imbibed, he told Frank that he’d be leaving his car in his usual space and got the proprietor to call a cab.

Frank nodded his head with relief. “Wise choice. I called A-1 Taxi and they’ll have a car here in a few minutes.” He did not mention spotting his best customer placing money on tables that were not his own. He had been a bar owner for too long to be surprised at what the public did. Still, it was strange. Come to think about it, Frank thought, when was the last time Nathan William-Taylor ever gave a damn about how anyone reacted to his words, let alone a barmaid?

“I’ll meet it outside—it’ll give me time to finish my cigar. Thanks, Frank. Have Hugh drive the car home for me tomorrow.” Nathan turned his head, careful to hide his smirk. Hugh should be grateful for his generosity; it would be the only time he would ever sit behind the wheel of a vehicle that cost more than what he made in a year.

lll

As soon as the cab stopped, Nathan jumped inside and wasted no time in telling the driver exactly what he wanted.

“I have a business proposition for you: the drive to my estate usually takes about twenty minutes, but if you can make it there in less than ten, I’ll give you a fifty dollar tip.”

The driver hesitated. Because the temperature had dropped in the last hour or two, the drizzling rain that had been falling all night was turning to sleet, making the roads slippery. This was no night to be racing down the Thruway. The car was his own and it wasn’t worth it take the risk of wrapping it around a telephone pole, even for a tip like that.

Nathan bit his lip to hide his impatience. The driver was a young man with whom he’d been familiar with in the past. He softened his tone. “Look Pete, I need to get home ASAP. I’ll make it a hundred if you can get me there in fifteen, all right?”

Pete nodded. Fifteen minutes was definitely doable and far more safer. He put the car in gear and drove off.