“I’ve been wondering the same thing. I think he has a god complex. He thinks that he owns you and anything that’s yours.”
“That sounds like Kenny.”
The squeal of tires and Brandon’s voice broke through. “He spotted me. Jerk cut the cars in front of me off. Almost caused an accident. Be careful, Whitman. It’ll take me a few minutes to get away from this mess. I’ve alerted Hanes. He’s on his way.”
“Copy that.” David hung up and scanned his rearview mirror.
The blur of blue sent his pulse racing. “Hold on, Jennie, he’s coming up fast.”
She whimpered and grabbed the edge of her seat.
The truck bumped the rear of his sedan.
He fought to maintain control.
The truck pulled into the left lane and sped up.
Having nowhere to go but forward, David hit the gas and lurched forward.
“Where’s my backup?” He needed his partner, now.
The blue pickup raced forward and slammed into the front quarter panel of the vehicle. David’s car careened off the road and the passenger’s side slammed against a tree. The sickening crunch of metal turned David’s stomach. Airbags exploded and silence descended.
A smack on the hood and muted cursing wafted in the air.
The creak of the back door registered in David’s brain.
“I’ll be back, you good for nothing piece of trash.” The man growled.
David struggled with his seatbelt. He watched in the side mirror as a man carried Zoey away, dumped her in his truck, and sped off.
Warm liquid trickled over his eyelid and down his face. He swiped at the offending substance and instantly regretted it. He sucked in a breath and the world spun around him. He shifted his gaze to his right.
Jennie’s head rested against the cracked window. Her eyes were closed.
David reached for her wrist. Her steady pulse released the knot in his stomach. He attempted to grab his phone, but hot, searing pain shot up his side. His stomach roiled with each movement.
“Whitman!”
He turned his head.
Brandon came skidding to a stop next to his door. “Dude, you look awful.”
“Thanks, man. Jennie needs help.”
“So do you. Ambulance is on the way.”
There was something he had to tell his partner, but a fog inhabited his brain. David closed his eyes.Think.His heart rate increased. “Zoey. He has Zoey.”
Brandon peered in the backseat and grabbed his cell. “Dispatch. I need an Amber Alert on Zoey Nielson. Last seen with a male in a navy-blue truck.” He rattled off a partial plate number then hung up. He peered into David’s window. “Looks like you’re stuck pretty good.”
When had he rolled down the window?
His partner brushed pieces of glass from the opening.
He blinked. The window wasn’t down, it had shattered.
“Hold on, partner.”
