Ice seeped into my veins.
Me: Plate?
A second later, he replied.
Brody: TX JPL-8724
I didn’t recognize it, but that didn’t mean it meant nothing. I lifted my gaze back to the school entrance just as Marisol stepped out, papers in hand. She was smiling.
She headed toward the truck, moving fast like she couldn’t wait to tell me whatever good news she’d just gotten. And that’s when I saw the dark gray pickup on the street… engine idling… driver’s side window down. A man sat behind the wheel pretending to look at his phone while his gaze tracked her.
Brody’s voice crackled in my earpiece. “Caleb. You see him?”
“Yeah,” I said under my breath. “I see him.”
Marisol reached the curb. The passenger door was still ten feet away. The truck door swung open and the man stepped out. He crossed the street like he’d been waiting for this moment.
My body moved before my brain finished the thought. “Marisol,” I snapped.
Her head turned, startled.
The man reached her, his hand closing around her arm.
She gasped and tried to yank free.
“Hey,” he barked, voice low and vicious. “Come on.”
The sound that tore out of her wasn’t a scream. It was a raw, terrified noise that hit something feral in my chest. I was out of the truck in two strides.
The man saw me and tightened his grip, jerking her toward the pickup. The driver’s seat was empty now, door hanging open. A second person was inside, shifting in the passenger seat, ready to move.
I didn’t give them time.
I hit the man hard, my fist landing in his jaw with a crack I felt all the way up my arm. He stumbled, still holding her. I grabbed his wrist and wrenched it back until he let go with a curse.
Marisol staggered toward me, shaking, her eyes wide.
I put myself between her and the man automatically, one hand on her shoulder, anchoring her behind me.
Brody’s truck screeched to a stop, blocking the pickup’s front end. He jumped out, weapon drawn but angled down, not waving it around like a man trying to start a war in the middle of a school zone.
The man tried to bolt. I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the side of my truck.
“Who sent you?” I said, my voice low.
He spit blood and laughed like he thought he was tough. “You think you can keep her?”
My vision went sharp around the edges.
Behind me, Marisol made a small sound, and I felt her hand clutch the back of my shirt like she was holding on to the only solid thing left.
Kane’s truck roared up from the far end of the street. The dog barked, wild and furious, throwing itself at the window.
The pickup’s passenger door flew open. The second guy jumped in the driver’s seat, tires squealing as he backed up hard, trying to get around Brody’s block.
Brody stepped closer, his weapon up now. “Stop the truck!”
The driver punched the gas anyway, swerving, barely missing Brody’s bumper. He tore down the street, the engine screaming. Kane’s truck peeled after him.
