Howdoes he know? I want to ask. He can’t know for sure.
The driver could run Indy over, flat tire or not. Or Indy could get shot.
I hug my knees, rocking against the fear flooding through me.
I never told Indy I love him. I was going to, but with the craziness of the last two days, it never seemed to be the right time.
But stupidly, I thought therewastime.
I thought that because we’d already escaped death, we were safe.
So stupid.
I should have told him.
Not far away, a car door slams.
Derek tenses.
One silent second turns into an eternity.
Then.
“What the FUCK are you doing?”
Indy!
I try to stand, but Derek pulls me back down.
Something clunks against metal.
A man shouts in pain.
My chest almost explodes with fear.
Then I hear Indy snap, “Don’t try anything. Or I will shoot you. Right here. Right now. Don’t think I won’t. After everything I’ve dealt with this week, I don’t have patience for your shit.”
“He’s got him,” Derek reports. “The driver. Indy’s got him. He’s pinned against the car. Looks like… Nice. Zip ties. I should start carrying those. He’s zip-tying the guy’s wrists. And now he’s taking him to the ground.”
That’s more than enough for me.
Jerking my arm from Derek’s grip, I leap up and out from behind the car.
“Bea, wait,” Derek says. “Not yet.”
But I’ve waited long enough.
I start running towards the SUV at the end of the aisle.
The SUV lists slightly to one side, with its left tire flat. A man is lying on the ground, his wrists bound behind him. And standing over the man, gun aimed at him with one hand and a phone clutched in the other, is Indy.
He looks okay. But I’m too far away to know for sure. So I speed up, distractedly thinking that maybe I wouldn’t be too bad at a 5K after all.
When Indy notices me running towards him, he shakes his head. As soon as I’m within speaking range, he asks, “What part ofstay theredidn’t you hear, Bea?”
I know I shouldn’t hug him, not while he’s holding a gun on the man who tried to run us over, but?—
“You!” the man snaps.
