Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Madison’s phone pinged with a number she didn’t recognize.
I have proof you need. Can you meet?
Her pulse kicked up.
Finally.
Her thumbs flew over the screen.
When? Where?
Thirty minutes.
An address followed with a warning to come alone.
She stared at the message for a long second. This was either the break she’d been waiting for or a terrible idea. Probably both. She texted back.
I’ll be there.
She grabbed her keys. On her way out the door, she hesitated, debating whether to tell Garrett.
He’d had a long day at the brewery. She could still picture the exhaustion in his eyes when he’d fallen asleep on the patio earlier.
She didn’t want to drag him into her late-night errand.
Besides, she’d done things like this before.
She’d tracked leads, met sources, and followed her instincts.
Only before, she’d had backup and a weapon.
She pushed the thought away and climbed into her SUV.
The thrill of the chase invigorated her. It always had.
The navigation voice guided her out of town and onto unfamiliar back roads. A storm brewed on the horizon. The sky ahead churned with rolling gray clouds, thick and restless. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. I’ve got time before the storm hits.
The paved road gave way to gravel. The road twisted. The deep ditches scarred the roadside. No houses, no lights, and no vehicles in sight. Her stomach tightened.
The navigation chimed. “In two-tenths of a mile, turn right.” Madison slowed, scanning for a driveway marker. That was when it happened. A violent jolt slammed her forward. Metal screamed and her head snapped back against the headrest.
“What the—?”
She glanced into the rearview mirror. A big black truck hit her again. Harder. Her tires skidded on the loose gravel as she fought the wheel.
She eased off the accelerator, searching for a place to regain control without giving the truck another opening. Nothing but narrow shoulders and thick woods stretched ahead.
Madison tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
Without warning, the skies unleashed a blinding downpour. The wipers thrashed uselessly, barely clearing the torrent.
The truck surged forward and slammed into her rear bumper again. The back end fishtailed. She counter-steered on instinct, but the tires lost their grip. The road disappeared beneath her as the SUV slid into the ditch.
The seatbelt knocked air from her lungs, and the airbag released. For a moment, everything was silent except for the drumming rain. She sat frozen in place.
“Okay,” she whispered hoarsely. “Okay . . .” She pushed the airbag to the side and looked around. The road above her was empty. The truck was gone. The warning, back off, was obvious. Message received loud and clear. If they were this desperate, she was getting close.
Her hands shook as she reached for her phone, following the charging cord until her fingers closed around it. She hit Garrett’s name before she could second-guess herself. He answered on the first ring.
“Hey.”
“Hey . . . it’s me.”
He paused. “What’s wrong?”
Madison forced a breath. “Why do you think something is wrong?”
“Madison.”
The way he said her name, tight and already worried, made her chest ache.
“I need you to pick me up,” she said.
Chair legs scraped faintly through the phone. A door banged open.
“Okay. Where are you?” Garrett asked.
“In a ditch about ten minutes out of town on County Road Twenty-Nine.”
His voice sharpened. “Are you hurt?”
A truck door slammed on his end and his engine roared to life.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little . . . shaken.”
“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone. Don’t hang up.”
His breathing was fast now. “Madison, are you bleeding? Did you hit your head? Madison?”
“I’m here.”
Rain thundered on the roof. The car ticked and creaked around her. “Someone ran me off the road,” she said.
Silence. Then a quiet, furious, “Who?”
Garrett barely remembered the drive.
Rain hammered his windshield so hard it sounded like gravel. The wipers thrashed back and forth, losing the battle. Headlights blurred into long streaks across the black ribbon of the county road.
Madison’s voice crackled through the truck speakers.
“I’m still here.”
Garrett let out a shaky breath.
“Stay with me,” he said for the hundredth time. His hands were white-knuckled on the wheel. “Talk to me.”
“I’m talking.” Her voice sounded thinner this time. “The airbag knocked the wind out of me. I can’t see anything through the rain, so I’m staying in the SUV.”
“You sound calm.”
“I’m trying not to panic.”
That did nothing to reassure him.
Garrett flicked his gaze to the phone mounted on his dash. Speaker mode. Call still active. Battery icon flashing red. He swore under his breath. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he activated voice-to-text and sent Nick a message.
Need you Now. County Road 29. Madison hurt.
The message sent just as lightning split the sky. Thunder cracked so loudly it rattled his truck.
“Garrett?” Madison said softly.
“I’m here.”
“You don’t have to drive like a maniac.”
“Too late.”
Gravel spit from under his tires as he rounded another curve.
Then he saw the faint glow of hazard lights blinking weakly through the rain, down in the ditch. Smart.
His heart slammed into his ribs. “Madison, I see you.”
He braked hard, skidding sideways before wrestling the truck onto the shoulder. He didn’t even bother shutting off the engine. The door flew open and the storm swallowed him whole.
Cold rain soaked him in seconds.
“Madison!”
He slid down the muddy embankment. The SUV sat crooked at the bottom, nose resting against a tree.
For one terrifying second, he imagined it rolling.
“Madison!” he shouted, splashing through the rain toward the driver’s door.
Relief washed over her face as she saw him approaching. She reached for the door handle and pushed. It didn’t budge. Garrett yanked the door open.
“Hey,” she said, voice shaky now that he was there. “Took you long enough.”
He crouched beside her, hands already moving—checking her shoulders, her arms, her face.
“Don’t joke,” he snapped. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so. Just sore.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She caught his wrist, forcing him to look at her. “I’m okay,” she said. “I promise.”
The rain drummed on the roof, loud and relentless.
Garrett exhaled hard, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I scared myself,” she admitted.
His jaw hardened. “Someone did this.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you see who?”
“Truck. Black. Big. Grille guard. That’s all.”
He swore quietly.
Above them, headlights flared across the road. Red-and-blue lights began to strobe through the rain. Nick.
Garrett helped Madison unclip her seatbelt. When she shifted, she winced.
“Easy,” he said.
She planted a foot on the ground and pushed herself upright. The world tilted.
He caught her before she could stumble.
“I can walk,” she insisted.
“I’m sure you can.” He slid an arm firmly around her waist. “You’re just not doing it alone.”
“Fine.”
Keeping most of her weight against him, Garrett guided her up the embankment one careful step at a time. The rain turned the weeds slick beneath their boots, and he steadied her by grabbing saplings whenever she faltered.
His pulse hadn’t slowed since the phone call.
Nick’s cruiser screeched to a stop, lights flashing wildly across the trees. He jumped out, already assessing the situation. He reached for Madison, slipping an arm around her. “I’ve got her. Madison, were you hurt?”
“Mostly sore,” she said. “The airbag got me.”
“It was a hit-and-run. They ran her into the ditch,” Garrett said.
Nick’s expression went sharp. “The ambulance is right behind me.” As if summoned, sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder.
“I really am okay,” she insisted.
“Good,” Garrett muttered. “Then you won’t mind getting checked out.”
She huffed a weak laugh.
Garrett pulled her close and guided her to the cruiser so she could sit down.
Nick shone a flashlight toward her wrecked vehicle below. “Is anyone still around?”
“No,” Madison said. “They left.”
Garrett’s arm tightened around her.
“They won’t get far,” Nick said quietly.
Lightning flashed again, briefly illuminating the storm-dark road, and just as suddenly as the downpour came, the rain eased to a faint drizzle.
The ambulance pulled onto the shoulder behind Nick’s cruiser. Two EMTs hurried over with a medical bag and stretcher, introducing themselves as they began assessing Madison.
Garrett looked down at her. Her rain-soaked hair clung to her face, her eyes still bright with adrenaline.
He realized with sudden clarity how close he’d come to losing her, and he wasn’t ready for that.
One of the EMTs finished checking her pupils before meeting her gaze. “I’d like you to go to the hospital so we can rule out internal injuries.”
Garrett braced himself for her refusal.
Instead, she nodded.
His surprise must have shown, because she gave him a faint, tired smile.
“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, squeezing her hand before they guided her toward the ambulance.
The back doors shut with a hollow, metallic thud that echoed through him. He turned and ran for his truck.