It was probably the dumbest thing I could have done. It suddenly made me look like a target.
He waved one of his buddies over. The two Bandits began approaching my car. I had probably about ten seconds before they’d come and hurt me or worse. I should have driven off, but I was paralyzed by fear. Fight or flight was missing the third option—freeze, because that was what I was doing now.
I didn’t see any of the Black Reapers. It just looked like an assault in the middle of broad daylight, a warning to them to disband or to leave town or something. And I was about to get caught in the crossfire.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I said, my heart rate accelerating.
The two Bandits got in front of my car. One of them yelled at me to get out. I still remained frozen in place, unable to so much as lift my hands off the steering wheel. Another one came to the side. I had my door locked, but he slammed his elbow into the mirror. I screamed.
“No!”
But still, I couldn’t move.
And then I heard it.
Behind me.
It was a soft roar, but it was a roar I recognized quite well by now.
The roar of a motorcycle.
I looked in my rearview mirror. The driver was distant, but I knew who it was immediately.
Steele!
“Reaper!” the Bandit in front of me yelled. “Cut her tires and get her!”
That kicked me into high gear. I closed my eyes, jammed the accelerator, and tried to ignore the sickening thud that followed. I kept driving, and driving, and—
One of my tires popped, sounding like an explosion. Guns went off behind me.
I got about a hundred more yards before the tire became completely useless and I had to pull over to the side of the road. I couldn’t fucking believe the spot I was in. I couldn’t believe what I had just done.
But I’d done something to help the Black Reapers.
I just had to pray Steele could help me as I’d helped him.
