He moans in pain, and grabs one of my wrists with his hand, squeezing with surprising strength.
“Not a word, Bess,” he hisses.
“Ken…”
“I mean it, you can’t tell them.”
His face is scrunched up in pain but his eyes are pleading.
“This is crazy, Ken,” I argue.“We can’t outrun this and now it’s putting other people in danger.They were shooting at me; at people I care about.”
“I just got out, Sis, I can’t go back.”
Dammit,he’s killing me.
Blinking my tears back, I shore up my resolve.
“I’m sorry, I have to, Kenny.”
Time to end my guilty silence.
Hugo
Fuck,fuck, fuck.
I just saw Bess jumping out of Savvy’s cruiser and darting for her brother, and I could do nothing.I don’t even have phone contact anymore.
Instead, I’m stuck in the passenger seat of a Bureau-issued Escalade with Mancuso behind the wheel, who is dead-set on going after the white van which just blew past us in the opposite direction.
What a shitshow this is.
I turn my body and strain against the seat belt to try and catch another glimpse of Bess as the fed seems to hit every fucking bump on this dirt road, but Savvy’s sheriff’s cruiser is blocking the view.I have no choice but to trust my boss to keep the woman I’m fast losing my heart to safe.
Who the fuck am I kidding?My heart was lost before I even knew how well she fits me in every way.The thought of anything happening to her makes me sick to my stomach.
At least I don’t have to worry about Carson.I called him earlier and he said they were about two, two-and-a-half hours out.I explained the situation, told him I felt it was safer for him not to come home, and floated the idea Savvy suggested of him crashing at Tate’s house.I would’ve thought he’d jump all over that, being a teenage boy and all that, but he surprised me by asking Cody’s dad if it was okay for him to crash there.I got the impression the boys had a good time this weekend.
I’m actually glad that’s the route my son decided to go.Since he and Tatum started dating, he’s been spending almost all his free time with her, neglecting his friends.As much as I like Tate, I don’t want Carson to lose his buddies.
“Heads-up,” Mancuso warns, giving me just enough time to grab onto the handle above the door before he whips around the wheel to turn a sharp left.
The van up ahead is swaying from side to side, making me wonder if the rough ride back there blew out one of their tires.
“Cavalry is here,” the agent mumbles, as a couple of our cruisers are speeding toward the van from the other side, lights flashing.
I guess the driver of the Ecoline panicked when suddenly the vehicle veers sharply, first to the left but then he overcorrects, and the van hooks to the right, careening off the shoulder and into the ditch below.It rolls a few times before coming to a stop on its roof.
I’m out of the SUV with my weapon in my hand before the wheels stop rolling and start sliding down the steep embankment on my ass.Mancuso joins me, and so does Rick Althof—he must’ve been monitoring a scanner at home and caught up with us—as we run toward the crashed vehicle.
The driver is crawling out of the window of the flattened cab, and the moment his feet hit the ground, and Mancuso yells, “FBI.Don’t move another fucking inch!”the punk is off and running, the fed on his heels.
“At least two left,” I call over to Rick, who is mimicking my cautious approach from the other side of the rear of the vehicle.
One of its back doors hangs open and a pair of legs is visible, but nothing seems to be moving inside.Still, armed and dangerous is not something to take lightly and if, as I suspect, these guys are Lotus Squad, they don’t shy away from violence, even against law enforcement.
“Sheriff’s office!”Rick yells, crouching down to give them a smaller target to aim at, should they start firing.I do the same.“You, in the van, come out, slowly with your hands high.”
The legs don’t move, and nothing else seems to either.If these guys were in the back of the van the entire time, it’s quite possible they were seriously injured or killed in that rollover.But I’m not taking any chances.
