Taking off at a run, I rush toward that location and find Waylon’s backpack on the ground.
I call Jackson to let him know to head in the direction I found it in. As I guessed, the parking lot I’d been aiming for is empty.
Did they already take Waylon from me? I can’t let anyone take Waylon from me. I’m going to make that woman pay. I’m going to ruin her fucking life, and then I’m going to destroy it.
“Car at three o’clock,” Everly warns as I realize that a car had been positioned around a building and is now making its way across the parking lot to the exit, while I’m over here thinking of all of the ways I’m going to kill “Sophia.”
“I can’t make that shot,” he says.
I can’t tell if it’s them, but it’s the only vehicle in an empty location, and I’m not going to risk letting them leave because I’m uncertain.
I stop, stabilize my stance and carefully take the shot. I shoot out both back tires before they even make it out of the parking lot. They still try to keep moving as I take out the front right. Jackson, who’s just arrived, tries blocking the vehicle in with his car, but they jerk the wheel hard, hit the curb and run over it.With three tires blown out, they’re struggling to get anywhere but still make it significantly farther down the road. I debate taking another shot, but if Waylon is in there, I can’t chance him getting hurt.
Everly was running the entire time I was standing still so I could focus on the shot, which means he’s already halfway to them when Jeremy’s police car comes flying out of nowhere, blocking them in. Their vehicle jerks to the side, flying past Jeremy’s car before slamming into a light pole that brings it to a sharp stop.
But none of us have time to focus on that since the window of the car with three tires blown out goes down and I see the glint of a gun.
“Everly, watch yourself,” I call, and Everly dives behind a tree just as they rain fire down on us.
The issue is that they can shoot at us all they want, but I can’t take a single shot at them since I don’t know where Waylon is when their car has such darkly tinted windows.
Cassel must distract them because they start firing in the opposite direction, giving me time to race across the parking lot toward them. When I reach the car, I slide up next to it, using it to give myself some protection. I reach for the door handle, but of course it’s locked.
I grab my knife and ram it down between the window and the car door, angling it toward the corner so when I pry, the glass pops, spiderweb cracks running through it. At that point, all it takes is one strike from the butt of my knife to cause it to cave in.
I point my gun at them. “You’re surrounded. If you don’t want to get shot in the head, drop your weapons.”
“Fuck you,” the driver says as he swings his gun toward me, but Cassel slips his arm in through a crack in the window to unlock the doors. The man hears it and begins to pull back,but Cassel has already looped the seat belt around his neck and jerked it back while disarming the man.
I see four men in the car but no Waylon. Is he in the trunk?
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Fuck you, he’s gone,” the front passenger says. Refusing to put up with his shit, I tear the door open and rip the man out of the vehicle where I have better control of the situation. Enraged, I punch him in the face so hard he doesn’t even have time to register what happened.
“Where is he?” I yell.
He tries to jerk free as I punch him again. I hit him so hard that blood sprays out of his broken nose. I follow him down to the ground when he collapses.
“Fuck you!” he yells while I punch him again and again. I will leave his bloody corpse here and move on to the next if he doesn’t start talking.
“Where is he?” I snarl as another hit lands right on his face. Blood is bubbling out of his nose and when he opens his mouth, bloody saliva drips out. “You going to answer now?”
“Go fuck yourself,” he hisses before spitting at me. It misses me, but I’m still irritated by the whole thing.
I point my gun down and shoot him in the foot, feeling like that might get me some kind of reaction.
“Fuck,” he screams.
“I’ll just keep moving my way up your body every time you refuse to answer,” I say as I aim at his knee.
“T-They took him! He’s in the other vehicle.”
“Where are they taking him?” I ask.
“Leland, the police are heading here. The gunshots were reported,” Jeremy says. “You need to go.”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t give a fuck. I will find out where Waylon is,” I growl, but before I can blow a hole in his knee, Jackson hauls me off him.
