She's stuck on the side of the road, no money, no transport and no real destination. Thumb out hoping for a ride. Along comes a beaten up wreck of a car and the driver is unshaven and muscular. She second guesses herself but thinks. What the hell, there hasn't been a car for ages. Plus. It's been raining and her clothes are soaked through. Her white blouse is starting to reveal her tight petite figure. She wished that she'd worn her bra this morning. It's a brisk afternoon and her body is cover in goosebumps showing how cold she really is. She reaches for the door handle...

He asks her. "Where to love"
she hesitantly replies. "No where in particular"
His eyes are all over her. She knows exactly where he is looking. But the heater is on and it's warm inside. So... she gets in. They drive in silence. She starts to warm up. He keeps looking over and he adjusts his rear vision mirror, aligning it so his view is on her and nothing else.

He notices that she is no longer cold. He thinks, this just won't do. He leans forward and turns off the heater and winds down his windows. She complains about the cold and is instantly cold from the chill. He drives on... in silence.
The kind of silence that makes you think!!! He says to her "there is a jacket in the back, you can wear it, but... Not with your wet dress on."
She's cold and not given much choice. So she undresses and put on the jacket. It barely covers her. But it's warm, and smells so good.

Abruptly, he grabs her dress and throws it from the vehicle. An evil grin appears on his face. She feels so helpless now and wonder what is likely to happen. He gently and methodically places his hand on her knee and reassures her that everything will be just fine.

And there it stays, on her knee and doesn't move.

His hand is warm and feels very strong. Even if she didn't want it there, she assures herself, there would be little chance that she could remove it. Suddenly she is aware that the hand is slowly moving further down her thigh with every bump of the car. Was this her imagination.
No. It was moving.

With much hesitation she feels her legs slowly part as if they have a mind of their own. Maybe in the very primal part of her brain, she wanted this to happen. As his hand crept slowly down and he was distracted by the road ahead she reached behind her and un-holstered the small calibre hand gun that was holstered into the small of her back in its skin coloured waist belt.
She knew a time would come when this may come in handy. She remembers her daddy's word.

Always maintain a distance between yourself and your attacker.

Don't handle a firearm unless you plan to follow through.

And follow through she did. Quick as a flash, the gun was out and a round had been fired. With his window open, what remained of the right side of his head was on the road behind them. He went limp and the car idled to a halt as she grabbed the wheel. She opened his door and pushed him out.

Callous, YES.

But... the rest of the journey was with the heater going full blast.