Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

My shoulders relaxed just a little, and I sat up straighter.
Okay.
I kept the wheel positioned in my lane, feeling when the
right side would dip a little as it did right before it gave way to
grass, and feeling the reflectors on the left, keeping me from
veering into the opposing lane. My wheel wasn’t always
straight, but we were going slow enough I could tell when the
road curved just slightly in order to stay between my markers.
“You did it,” he whispered.
I broke out in a smile, my eyes still wet, but feeling a lot
better than I did a few minutes ago. He didn’t teach me, either.
He didn’t tell me about the reflectors or how to move the
wheel or anything. He just waited for me to learn it on my
own. It was a nice change and took the pressure off. It was
nice not to feel hurried.
“We’re gonna go faster,” he told me.
Faster? And there went the relaxation and confidence I’d
just been basking in.
“I’ll let you know which way to move the wheel, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied. It made sense. We’d be going faster, so
I’d have less time to correct myself.
His legs moved under me, he shifted gears, and the car
picked up pace, making my body jerk against him.
Instinctively, I gripped the wheel harder and didn’t blink for a
second as I tried to concentrate.
The engine roared, and I could feel the acceleration vibrate
under my thighs as we barreled into the night where anything
could come out at me too fast for two minds to react in sync.
An animal, another car, a person… Jesus. Too fast. Too fast.
The car rumbled under my feet, making my heart leap in my
chest.
“The wheel is at noon,” he said. “When I say ‘go’, slowly
and softly veer to the left, to about ten o’clock.”
I couldn’t swallow or speak, so I just nodded, curling my
toes in fear. Shit.