Chapter 20
TWENTY
Trees blur by the car as I slam a fist against the undersized steering wheel.
Is this as fast as this stupid thing will go?
How the FUCK did someone grab Beast? I couldn’t have been out for more thank a few seconds.
This has got to be some kind of nightmare. Not only is there a professional hit out on Rosalie, Beast is missing.
“Universe, you can go to hell!”
“P-please pull over.”
I glance in the side mirror, bypassing the ghostly, puckered-up face of the passenger.
“You’re not dying,” I mutter, but when I lock my eyes back on the road, the gas pedal suddenly feels sluggish.
No.
Not. Now.
A quick scan of the dash confirms the worst case scenario is indeed really happening.
“Empty?!?” I bellow loud enough to make the owner whimper.
The car’s gas gauge needle has plunged so far below E, it’s not even on the dial now.
Teeth bared like some kind of animal, I shout, “How can you be out of gas?!?”
“I forgot to stop, I was going to.”
I almost have a nuclear reaction inside my head.
He’s clutching his chest, wheezing. “Please don’t kill me.”
Swiping my forearm over my face, I taste cold sweat as my heart thuds heavily.
Jesus, it’s hard to breathe.
I need a car. I need to fix this problem fast.
This is my fault. Beast wouldn’t have been with me if I wasn’t jacked up over Rosalie.
He’d be safe.
He’d be going home to Camile tonight.
I can barely contain the fury and cold terror coiling inside of me.
This is a dangerous line. Any operative knows you can’t get into this zone.
Shit breaks down when you get out of control.
Forcing out words, I extend my hand, hastily motioning toward the man. “I need a phone.”
“Can I get out?” he stammers, reaching for the door as we coast to a stop on the rumble strip.
He’s lucky I don’t throw him out the way I feel right now.
Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I shake him. “Not so fast. Give me your phone.”
His hands are trembling so bad, it takes both of them to get his phone out of his front pant pocket. “You can have it.”
I don’t reply as I launch out of the car, stalking to the middle of the road as I dial Truck’s number from memory.
Pick up. Pick the fucking phone up!
“Who is this?” Truck growls, his voice echoing like he’s in an empty room.
“JT here. My comms gear got trashed. Someone attacked us and they have Beast.”
His reply is exactly what I would expect.
“How the hell does someone grab Beast?”
“An armored vehicle plowed into our truck—”
“I know that part,” he interrupts. “Mako got a scanner feed that picked up the crash. Marshall talked to the cops. We heard you’re both unaccounted for.”
“Well I’m here.”
Sore. Mad. But alive.
A car appears, shimmering in the distance as it speeds down the road toward me.
“Hold on. I need to carjack another ride.”
“Another? Oh boy.”
The second driver slows, steering wide, but I leap in front of his car, raising my gun.
Yes, I’m breaking every law that’s ever been written. Marshall’s good at taking care of that kind of problem. Not that I know. I’m usually the one staying out of trouble.
Not now.
Now they’ve pushed the wrong button.
Gripping the phone between my shoulder and ear, I yell at the driver who has now stopped in the middle of the wrong side of the road. “Get out of the car!”
The gasless Camry owner cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “You should probably do what he says. He’s Ca-razy.”
Driver number two stares at driver number one, and mouths something. The way his lips move looks a lot like he’s saying, holy shit.
Guess I look as unhinged as I feel, because a few seconds later the door opens and he gets out with his hands up.
Unlike the ghost-faced first driver, this one looks like he might pop an artery.
Cheeks purple, veins popping, he blusters, “Son-of-a-bitch. Can I keep my driver’s license?! They’re hard as hell to get replaced.”
“Keep whatever you want, except the car. You can even ride along.”
“No!” driver number one shouts. “Do not get in the car with him, he’ll scare the piss right out of you.”
A point proven by his wet jeans.
Motioning the second man out of the way with my pistol, I offer my only consolation.
“Your car will be left at the hospital. Don’t know when. Don’t know what condition. Our company will reimburse you. Not sorry. A good man’s life is on the line.”
I skirt the car door, drop into the driver’s seat, and get back to my call with Truck. “Got another car, I’m in pursuit, but they’ve got at least five minutes on me, maybe more, and I don’t know which direction they went.”
“Where are you?” Truck asks as a seat belt reminder dings in the background. “I’ll search a different area.”
“Heading west on Case Road, just outside of town.”
Two of the Charger’s tires squeal and tracks of rubber paint the pavement behind me. In the rearview, the two drivers are quickly growing smaller.
Flexing my hands on the wheel, I test the steering and power.
This is more like it.
The engine on the Charger runs loud.
Truck’s voice is muffled as he says, “On my way. I’m fifteen minutes…”
Goddamned cheap cell phone. His voice is fading in and out.
I wouldn’t be having this problem if I didn’t get punched in the face by the airbag, breaking my tooth-mounted comms device.
“Louder! What did you say?” I yell.
“The PD Helicopter should be en route by now, they will be able to—” he’s shouting back, but his words cut off when then there’s a loud thud on his end.
“Truck?”
He starts to yell, but this time, I know it’s not at me. “Girls! Get in the safe room, now!”