My focus is on the gate. I don’t see anyone and I don’t recognize the voice. I have to get to Rebel. As fast as possible.
Adrenaline rushes through my body as I tear through the gate. Tires skidding, I turn onto the road to Rebel’s school. I have to get her in the car before anyone from the club can catch up with me. If they think logically, they’ll know that’s the first place I’ll go. Everything in my body is pulsing, but I try to focus on the road. I simultaneously floor the gas pedal as much as I’m comfortable with.
A black car appears in my rearview mirror. I don’t recognize the face. It’s a bald man wearing a T-shirt, and even though I don’t know him, my instincts tell me something’s wrong. Struggling to tear my gaze away from the mirror, I look in front of me. Three hundred meters to go, then I have to take the turn. I’m almost there.
In the distance, a car is approaching me. I slow down and turn on my blinker.
The car is approaching quickly. Hopefully, I won’t even have to stop before the turn. I tap my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Come on, come on. I have to be on time. There’s no other way.
Suddenly, the car swerves toward me, and I widen my eyes.
Before I can react, the impact throws my body against the seatbelt, and I scream. The air gets knocked out of me and my head hits the steering wheel.
After a few seconds, I look up in a daze and try to focus on the road. The passenger side is pinned to the guardrail. Sluggishly, I look at my door and touch my forehead.
My fingers brush something wet and when I lower them, I notice blood. I forcefully press the seat belt button. Release. It needs to be released. I need to get out. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Suddenly, someone yanks open my door, and I find myself staring down the barrel of a gun. “Hello, Mrs. Hayes.”
I say nothing. Everything seems to fade into the background and then everything goes black.
Twenty-Four
I’msittingononeof the couches at the back of the club bar, staring into space. In my hand, I hold a glass of whiskey that I haven’t touched. I can’t stop thinking about yesterday’s meeting. We’re bound to find valuable information. There has to be. Nowadays, everything is done via computers and the internet. It’s only logical that there’s some kind of trail to be found. My head is spinning.
“Kyler.” The panic in Colt’s voice makes me look up at him. I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. Meanwhile, he gestures frantically toward the door. “Layne.”
“Layne?” I raise my eyebrows.
His hand movements become more frantic. “She got into Crusher’s truck and drove away.”
“What?” I tilt my head and frown. I must’ve heard him wrong.
“Layne drove off in Crusher’s truck.”
The glass slips from my fingers and shatters on the floor. I jump up and run to the door, just catching sight of the truck turning onto the road with screeching tires. Fuck. What is she doing? What…
I have to go after her. I turn on my heels.
Without thinking, I run to my motorcycle and put my helmet on. My heart’s in my throat and my hands are clammy. In my haste to leave, I rev the engine too quickly and stall my Indian motorcycle.Damn it. Come on, Ky.
I take a deep breath, and try again. When it starts, I shout to Colt, “Call Brooks for Rebel and get Pax.”
Without waiting for an answer, I turn the front wheel of the bike onto the public road and open the throttle.Where are you going, Layne?My throat tightens and I try to concentrate on what I’m doing.
When I turn onto the road, I can’t see her anymore. I take deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Knowing she’d never leave Rebel, I focused my efforts in that direction. School.
Please let me get there in time.
Shit, shit, shit. She knows damn well she’s not safe, and yet… What’s her plan? What’s going through her head? My Indian racks up the miles as I keep looking for her. Where the fuck is she? Why can’t I see her yet?
I should see her when I round the corner, I have to. Looking as far as possible around the bend, I spot a van parked before a truck.
Tats’ truck.
Right in the middle of the road.
My stomach drops. My chest feels like it’s being crushed and I have to concentrate on my breathing to get any air into my lungs.I open the throttle a little more, hoping I’ll make it in time. That I can get her out. That I can catch one of those bastards.
