Chapter Thirteen
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R attled, fighting every instinct that screamed at her to obey the red light, she hit the gas and turned her blinker on as she neared the intersection.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying not to get us killed ,” she snapped back, cringing as she reached the intersection. Calling a hail Mary, she hit the hazard light button in case it might help stop someone from hitting them.
“Go, go!” TJ yelled.
She shot through the red light at a terrifying clip, cringing, and smothering a squeal as she made the turn. “I am!” Horns blared all round her, tires screeching as cars swerved to avoid slamming into them.
“And stop indicating your every goddamned move to the guys chasing us!” He punched the hazard button to shut the lights off.
“Well, I’m sorry if I’m not doing it right,” she snapped back, gripping the wheel with white-knuckled fingers as she tore up the hill. “It’s my first car chase, and I’m just a little bit stressed right now—so cut me some damned slack!”
The car directly ahead of them was moving too slow. She shoulder-checked, automatically flicked on her blinker before she could stop herself. “Shoot,” she muttered, drowning out TJ’s outraged exclamation as she shut it off.
Behind them the truck had run the red light too. It was speeding up the hill, its more powerful engine closing the distance at a terrifying rate.
“Cut around the green car up ahead and turn right. And don’t you dare use your turn signal,” TJ warned.
Huffing out a flustered breath, Bristol focused intently on the road. She passed the green car, did another quick shoulder check, and managed to zip back in front of it without indicating. She gave a mental shout and fist pump, feeling like a total badass for breaking so many traffic laws while fleeing for her life. If she survived this, Cassie would never believe what she’d just done.
“Don’t stop,” TJ said, his voice clipped as he looked out the back window. “They’re still right on us.”
But they had another problem. There was a lineup of traffic stopped at the next light, about fifty yards ahead. “Uhhh...”
“Go left. Now,” he bit out.
It went against every instinct and everything she’d been taught about driving, but self-preservation took precedence. She yanked the wheel hard left.
Her little car whipped around the turn, tires screeching as the back end fishtailed slightly. Biting back a curse as she fought to regain control of the steering, she sped up the hill toward the freeway, the short side street she’d turned onto clear of traffic. So far, at least.
A glance in the mirror moments later showed the pickup was nowhere in sight. She felt a wave of mingled hope and relief wash over her. “Do you see them?” Maybe she’d lost them. Her heartrate slowed a fraction as she divided her attention between the road and the mirrors.
TJ swiveled in his seat to look behind them both ways. “No. But that doesn’t mean the coast is—”
She let out a yelp and slammed the brakes when the pickup suddenly veered out of a cross street directly in front of them. Yanking the wheel to the left, she narrowly avoided slamming into the back of the truck. The sudden turn sent them careening across the other lane, barely missing another car coming in the opposite direction as it crested the hill.
But the truck couldn’t handle the angle of the turn. Out of the corner of her eye she saw it flip onto its side and fly across the road to slam into a power pole.
“Oh my God...” She drove past it.
“Pull over,” TJ said.
She shot him a disbelieving look. “Are you insane?”
“Do it. Hurry.”
Her gut commanded her to get as far away from the situation as possible, but the urgency in his voice gave her pause. Battling with herself, she hit the brakes and yanked the car over to the shoulder. Watched in shock as he unstrapped and hopped out to run toward the truck. Maybe they were badly hurt, and he was going to try to help them?
She got out too and stood on the shoulder, phone ready, thumb hovering over the emergency call button just in case. Should she call the police? Get back in the car and the hell away from this insanity?
TJ ran up to the flipped truck. The windshield and windows were all smashed from the impact. Two men were trying to crawl out of the cab. One made it out, hit the pavement like a landed fish, and lay there while his buddy crawled out, bleeding from his head.
Bristol edged a little closer, gaze riveted on the men. They lay side by side on the road under the faint light from the broken streetlamp. TJ ran up to them, knelt and secured their hands behind their backs with plastic zip ties that he’d apparently been carrying in his pocket—because maybe he tied people up on a regular basis?
Bristol stopped a few dozen feet away and hovered there in uncertainty, not knowing what to do, still tempted to ditch TJ, just jump in her car and not look back. But thinking about her brother made her stay put. Rangers never leave a man behind.
Not that she was a Ranger. She was an ultrasound tech. And she was mad as hell at all three of these men, for different reasons.
“Who the fuck are you?” TJ growled to the men as he took pictures of their faces and checked their pockets.
Neither of them answered, their expressions mutinous.
“ Talk ,” TJ said to the guy who wasn’t bleeding, digging a knee into his back. It occurred to Bristol that it was weird neither of them seemed to have any ID or phones on them. Maybe they were in the truck.
When it was abundantly clear neither of them was interested in talking, TJ stood and stalked around to the up-facing side of the truck.
Bristol edged backward, shifting her focus back to the bound prisoners lying on the side of the road. The shock of everything was starting to wear off, rapidly being replaced by a rising tide of anger.
Her breathing turned shallow and choppy. These men had chased them. Endangered her life and forced her to take emergency evasive measures that could have gotten her or other innocent people seriously hurt or killed.
TJ rummaged around in the cab of the truck, grabbed something, and stuffed it in his pockets. “Let’s go,” he said, walking toward her.
Bristol was mad at him too, but her gaze swung back to the bound men, her anger rising until it was hard to breathe. Those...those assholes . God knows what would have happened if they’d caught up to her and TJ, but it wouldn’t have been pretty, and they were also involved in whatever illegal deal she’d witnessed at the hospital.
Her temper snapped.
“You know what? No .” They weren’t getting away with this. No way.
She stomped toward them, spotted a plastic water bottle lying on the shoulder on the way. She snatched it up, planted her feet, and hurled it as hard as she could at the man closest to her.
Instead of smashing him in the head, the nearly empty bottle bounced harmlessly off his back and rolled into the middle of the road, but she felt vindicated anyway. “I hope you have the worst whiplash ever ,” she spat at them, vibrating with indignation.
“Okay, feisty pants. Let’s go.” TJ grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away, hustling her back toward her car. “Gimme the keys,” he said, holding out his free hand expectantly.
No traffic had come by yet. She couldn’t decide if that was lucky or not.
She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “I can drive.” On the one hand she didn’t want to spend another minute in his company. But on the other she wanted answers too badly to leave.
“No, you really can’t. And you’re in shock. Hand them over.”
Was she still in shock? Maybe.
Reluctantly handing the keys over, she realized her hand was shaking. Actually, all of her was shaking. Okay, yes, it appeared she was still in a bit of shock. But for sure she was still mad as hell.
“Get in,” TJ said, giving her a little push toward the passenger side. She slid into the seat, fumbled to get her seatbelt on as he roared away from the accident site. He sped away up the hill, phone to his ear.
She bit back a warning about it not being safe to talk on the phone without a hands-free device, listened as he reported the accident and hung up. “Who were they? Why were they chasing us?” she asked.
“I don’t know who they are.”
The clipped answer made her want to scream. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say about what just happened?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes flared wide in outrage at his dismissive tone. She absolutely wasn’t going to let this go, but fighting with him now wasn’t going to get her anywhere. Besides, the way he was watching behind them so closely made her afraid that more people might be after them than she realized.
“Where are we going? Am I allowed to know that at least?” she asked as he reached the freeway entrance and merged them into the light traffic heading south. Her breathing was still a bit choppy. The rush of anger on top of the adrenaline burst was fading now, leaving her a little dizzy.
Calm down. Breathe.
But the tension coming off TJ was palpable, winding the knot in the pit of her stomach tighter. “Home.”
She looked over at him sharply. “You know where I live?”
He didn’t answer, and she was too drained to push. She would conserve her energy for when they got to her place, because she had plenty more to say to him when they did. She was so angry and disappointed she wanted to shake him. After all she’d done, after all Beckett had done to help him and give him a chance at a better life, he was either using drugs or dealing them. Or both.
She swallowed against the rise of nausea in her belly.
She’d believed in him. Trusted him because of his ties to Eric. Maybe she was just stupid. Cassie was right—she should have left this alone.
TJ passed the turn to her townhouse complex. She frowned. “I thought you said—”
“Quiet.”
She glared a hole through his face for a long moment, but when he didn’t react, settled for folding her arms and staring through the window as he drove them to the north side of town. In a quiet residential neighborhood, he turned down a dead-end road and pulled into the driveway of a cute white bungalow.
“Where are we?” She was starting to get nervous. Mentally calculated an escape route in case she had to flee, and the odds of whether she would be able to outrun him. The answer was a disheartening no.
“My place.”
He lived here ? The place was brand new, and she knew what properties sold for around here.
Why had he brought her to his house? Too afraid to ask, she edged as far away from him as possible, her fingers closing around the door handle, preparing to make a break for it.
“For Chrissake, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He sounded offended as well as irritated. But what was she supposed to think? She’d literally caught him in the middle of a drug deal and could ID him to the police, bad guys had chased them, and now he was basically kidnapping her.
He parked in a detached garage and turned off the engine. “Let’s get inside.” He sounded as happy about her being here as she felt.
“Just take me home.”
He gave a low, humorless laugh that made the back of her neck prickle. “Oh, I wish.”
Alarm streaked through her. She gripped the door handle, staring at him while her heart beat an erratic tattoo against her ribs. “What does that mean? Why can’t I just go home?”
He paused to look at her, those deep, dark eyes burning with frustration in the overhead garage light, along with something that looked an awful lot like resignation. “Because you just put targets on both our backs.”