23. Mya
23
The rain continued to hammer down, angrily beating the pickup truck. I’d finally agreed to wear Oliver’s hoodie but had ditched his hat once in the truck since it was now soaked. I also chose not to protest when he blasted the heat, redirecting every vent my way. There was probably a more technical name for those, but whatever, my teeth were no longer chattering thanks to them.
Oliver hadn’t spoken a word since our embrace by the lake. Not so much as a syllable or sound. So, as he continued to drive us back toward his dad’s place, my thoughts carried plenty of the conversation for the both of us in my head. My nails bit into my thighs through my wet jeans as my brain continued replaying Oliver’s words about his mother’s experiences.
What she went through while her husband had to watch. How that’d nearly been my experience with Oliver . . .
No wonder he left and went off-the-grid. Any pent-up anger and hurt I had toward him vanished the moment he shared those painful memories.
I had no clue how he’d gone through so much in his life and had never broken down before. I’d thought I was strong, but Oliver redefined the word. And I’d do everything in my power to help him get through this.
“Any better?” His deep voice jostled me free of my thoughts, and I opened my eyes. One of his hands rested on his lap while the other white-knuckled the wheel.
“Warmer, you mean?” Because better wasn’t happening anytime soon. “Getting there.”
He shifted on the seat to reach into his pocket, producing my phone. “You said not to bring it, but I did.” He set it on my leg without touching me. “Make sure it works and didn’t get water damage. I have plenty of disposables back at the cabin if you need another, though.”
His narrowed eyes cut to the rearview mirror, and instead of powering on the phone, I followed his gaze out the window. The back windshield wiper blades weren’t quite able to keep up with the rain, but I could still see a vehicle behind us that must’ve snagged his attention for some reason.
“Everything okay?” I faced forward as he went for the glove compartment and popped it open. “Glock 19. So, definitely not okay.” Not a longshot interpretation by any means with him now resting the midsize pistol on his lap.
“That SUV is going too fast. Locals would never drive like that in a storm here.”
“A tourist, maybe?” I turned on the phone and it immediately pinged with multiple notifications. Texts and voicemails from both Gwen and Mason.
Gwen: Your location has been compromised. Someone betrayed us.
Gwen: Get the hell out of there.
Mason: Mya, godammit, are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay. You need to get out of there.
“Not a tourist behind us,” I let him know, almost too casually. The reality of our situation had yet to catch up with me. Disbelief was still clouding my thoughts. “They found us.” They. The Collective. Who else could it be?
Oliver didn’t have a delayed response like me, and he took a sharp turn, flying down a side road between a thick bank of trees as I tried to get ahold of Gwen. No luck.
The SUV followed right along, picking up speed behind us, an obvious sign that we were being followed and probably in trouble.
I tried Mason next, and the call went unanswered, so I opened up my voicemails and played Gwen’s first.
Activating the speaker, I nearly dropped the phone as Oliver took another turn, this time going off road.
“That hacker gave us another heads-up. Someone on Carter’s old crew was flipped. That means they have access to your tracker. Your earrings. Lose them and get somewhere safe. They know where I’m at, too, so I’m with my dad, leaving now before the safe house gets hit.”
No freaking way Easton, Teddy, or Steve would do this. It made no sense, but now wasn’t the time to question it. I set the phone on my lap and hurriedly unscrewed the backs of the earrings Gwen had given me, then partially rolled down the window, battling the rain as I chucked the diamonds outside.
“Someone on Carter’s team betrayed him?” Oliver said under his breath, mirroring my own shock at that fact. “There’s only one reason anyone would ever do that. That’s a death sentence.”
They must have had no choice. Faced a horrible decision like Oliver had in Thailand. Oh, God. “I should’ve left my phone on in case of an emergency, but I thought it’d be safer for it to be powered off.” I shook my head, remembering there was another voicemail. “I haven’t been thinking that clearly lately.” Like for the last four months.
I pressed play on the second message, but quickly swapped the line over for an incoming call from Mason.
I blurted his name in a rush as Oliver continued to fly down the narrow dirt not-a-road-road, bouncing us around a bit, while also placing some much-needed distance between us and the SUV.
“Oh thank God. Are you okay?” Mason asked over speakerphone, and I almost dropped the phone again as another bump nearly sent me off my seat.
“We have a Suburban on our ass,” Oliver announced. “Not sure how many guys are in there, or if the traitor is with them, but we have to shake them. I can’t risk her safety and deal with them.”
Dealing with them wasn’t an option. Hell no. Whether I was in the truck or not. He was right, there could be five heavily armed guys there and he had one Glock. Not a fair fight.
“Steve isn’t with them,” Mason quickly said. “His mother and sister were taken hostage. If he didn’t give up your location and our safe house in Maine, they would’ve been killed.” He paused to let that sink in. “He’s already left Canada and is en route to try and rescue his family before they take them out in Detroit. I don’t like what he did, but?—”
“He had no choice,” I finished for him, trying to keep my emotions in check. Spinning out of control wouldn’t help us, and that wasn’t who I was at my core anyway. So, not today, Satan, not today.
“Where are Teddy and Easton now?” Oliver beat me to the question.
“Steve knocked them out at their hotel with some type of gas so they couldn’t stop him from taking off on what I assume will be a death mission trying to rescue his mother and sister, especially since he didn’t kill the crew like he was ordered to do.” Mason sounded as though he was on the move himself as he continued to fill us in. “We don’t know how they even got to Steve, but one problem at a time. Teddy and Easton are on their way to you, but it looks like you got Gwen’s message and killed the tracker.”
“Which means they can’t find us now, either,” I whispered, glancing back at the SUV gaining ground.
Oliver yanked the wheel hard to the right and we left the woods, flying onto an actual road this time.
“I have a plan.” With his free hand, Oliver gestured for the phone. “I’m going to text you a location. Have the guys go there instead as backup.” He pin-dropped a place to Mason before handing the phone back to me. “We’ll be in touch. I need to make a call, though.”
“Be safe. Don’t let anything happen to her. Promise me,” Mason said, choking up on those last two words.
Oliver met my eyes for a brief moment before looking back at the road and gritting out, “I promise.”
“Talk soon. Stay safe,” I told Mason after he ordered me to get rid of the phone as well.
I chucked it out the window and asked Oliver, “You think these guys just got in town? Why not grab us from the cabin or at the lake?”
“They either figured out they’d get blown to fucking pieces crossing my old man’s property, or yeah, they just got in. Probably didn’t take us from the lake since the parking lot was full. They didn’t want to risk witnesses. They want this to look like a car accident during the storm.”
The Collective’s favorite MO for killing people. “Accidental” deaths that couldn’t be traced to them. Of course.
He let go of the gun to dig into his pocket, then handed me his phone. “Call the only saved number on the phone for me. It’s my dad’s.”
The line connected two rings later, and I held the phone out between us so Oliver could concentrate on driving.
“Dad, we need to exfil now. Our location’s blown,” Oliver cut to it. “A gray Suburb—” He let go of his words as he slammed on the brakes.
I flew forward at the quick halt, and Oliver flung his arm out to stop me from smacking my face into the dashboard, just in case the seat belt didn’t do its job.
“Oliver, what’s going on?” his dad barked out.
It took me a moment to realize why he’d stopped. Another SUV was facing us, headlights on. Gunning our way to box us in.
Oliver threw the truck into reverse and drove backward fast. Using the heel of his hand, he spun the wheel, changing directions while warning, “Hang on.”
I grabbed the side handle near the ceiling with my free hand as he raced us a new way, now with both vehicles on our ass.
“What’s happening?” his dad asked again. I’d forgotten he was on the line.
“We have two vehicles pursuing us. They’re not firing. Not yet. I think they want our deaths to look like an accident, which gives us a chance to get out of here,” Oliver told him. “Meet me at our spot in ten. Two guys we trust will be arriving for backup so we can make a clean exit.”
Oliver stopped abruptly, threw us in reverse again, then maneuvered backward right between the two SUVs before spinning us around face forward. What in the hell was that?
“Meet you there. Be safe,” his dad said before the call ended.
“What spot? Where are we going?” I asked, looking back to see the SUVs farther away now but still coming for us.
This could not be Thailand 2.0. We couldn’t be taken again.
“Dad has a Cessna.”
“A Cessna.” I loosened my hold of the handle and let go of the phone, pinning it between my legs.
“A plane.”
I rolled my eyes dramatically despite our situation. “Of course I know what it is. I’m just surprised your dad has one, I guess.”
“Yeah. Well, he flies it. I jump.” His statements were quick facts punching the air, striking me hard.
“I’m sorry, what? We’re going to fly out of here?” I was only afraid of heights when it came to jumping from things—like into rivers, holes, and for sure, from planes. “Tell me he plans to both take off and land?” Or maybe with Carter’s other guys here, we wouldn’t have to even board.
He ignored my questions, which didn’t bode well. At least the storm had let up. Barely a drizzle now. It’d left as fast as it’d come.
Without slowing down, he flew around a corner, taking us onto a main road. He moved the truck between two other cars, and when I looked back the two SUVs were slowing down a bit. We had eyes on us now. Witnesses.
Good thinking.
“I’ve got you, Mya,” Oliver rasped. Realizing he was looking at me, I shifted on the seat to do the same. Meeting my eyes, he promised, “I won’t let them, or anyone, ever touch you again.”