Instead, she dove into the driver's seat.
Before he could react, she reached under the steering column and locked all the doors from the central control.
It was a 2014 Corolla, nothing fancy, not automatic, and definitely not fast enough to stop her.
Too bad the car wasn't tinted.
He saw her.
He yelled and pounded on the glass, claiming he had the key.
Helen just smirked.
From her bag, she pulled a hairpin and began picking the ignition lock.
Estimated time? 30 to 45 seconds.
More guys showed up, trying to open the doors or bash in the windows, but they were weaklings.
She ignored them all, her attention drifting for just a second.
Handsome, she thought, catching the driver's eyes through the window.
But not as fine as Timothy.
Her face flushed at the random thought and just like that, the engine roared to life.
The driver's face crumpled in disbelief.
Helen didn't care.
She adjusted the seat, buckled in, and threw the car into reverse.
