Chapter Thirteen
The city skyline rose in the distance. Glass and steel jutted into the sun like knives, cutting through the haze of thick smog.
My stomach bottomed out. Dawson sat rigid in the passenger seat.
The backpack tucked between his boots at his feet.
The gun laid across his lap. His eyes burned straight ahead.
He’d gone quiet since I’d mentioned his daughter, but the quiet was almost worse than the rage.
Finally, he spoke. “When we get there, you’ll park right in front, just like you always do. You’ll stay with me. Camera rolling. If they see you, they won’t risk a shot.” His mouth twisted. “They won’t shoot me if you’re with me.”
The words landed heavy in my chest. I wasn’t just a witness. I was his shield.
But you couldn’t trust the words of a madman, and he had crossed over.
They say that grief can drive you mad, and he’d clearly lost his mind.
There was no more time to argue. No more time to try to get inside his brain to change his mind.
To tug at his conscience or remind him of Aurora.
He was too far gone in his grief and revenge.
Killing other people to avenge your daughter’s death made no sense.
Especially when the people’s lives he was on a mission to take didn’t actually have anything to do with his daughter’s care.
They were just following protocol and procedures.
They weren’t the insurance company. His logic didn’t make any more sense to me than that of the pro-lifers who blew up abortion clinics.
If it is all about the sanctity of life, then why do you kill people?
My fingers slipped on the wheel. Slick with sweat.
“And if I don’t?” I asked, challenging his instructions.
He turned to me pointedly. “You will.”
I swallowed hard and forced my gaze back to the road.
My head buzzed so loud it drowned out the hum of the tires.
The freeway stretched wide ahead of us. The lanes were still empty this early in the morning.
A curve loomed sharp and sudden ahead. The guardrail jagged and punched in from years of collisions. My pulse surged.
I thought of Oliver, curled in his bed and waiting for me to come home.
His sweet face. Tears pricked my eyes. But then I thought of the people drinking coffee in their offices downtown right now.
Laughing and scrolling through their phones while they waited for their order.
The kids headed to their first dentist appointments, bouncing around in the lobby with all their anxious energy.
All of them completely oblivious that death was barreling toward them in a LA city truck.
The families that would get calls from the coroner that their loved ones were dead.
It was too much for me. Someone had to stop him.
Could I do it?
I clenched the wheel. Knuckles white. All the trees lined the passenger side. We were going to come around the big curve right before San Bernardino. Just outside of LA County. My heart hammered in my chest. I took one huge breath. Deep and final. Right as we came around the bend.
I slammed on the gas and yanked the wheel to the right.
The truck screamed. The tires shrieked against asphalt. It happened so fast. The world tilted. Blurred. Skies. Trees.
Impact.
Metal shrieked and glass shattered.
My body whipped forward and cracked against the dash. All the air stolen from my lungs. The world went white, then black, and finally red. I heard Dawson screaming from far away. Or maybe it was me. Every nerve blazed white hot. I couldn’t tell if I was dying.
All I knew was that I’d stopped him.
And that was the only thing that mattered.