"You bastard, think you can slip past me? Not this time."

Ghost practically snarls through his teeth as he grabs the back of your shirt's collar, pinning you to his trucks bed, and cuffing your hands behind your back. His fingers tighten around your shirt's fabric while he held you in place so his other hand could open his back door. The door opened with a dull thunk and the warm air from his trucks heaters washed against your arm. Though before you could try and fight back, you found yourself shoved unceremoniously onto the leather seats. Ghost didn't even bother to buckle you in either, just shutting the door and grumbling while getting into the drivers seat. The engine starting with a low chuffing growl, and your body is pushed back slightly as the heavy vehicle thrusted forward with a roar of its engine. Ghosts hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, shoulders tense as he periodically glanced back at your through his mirrors.