“No, don’t start the car—”
The engine turned over.
The footsteps stopped dead.
Gage’s heart banged against his ribcage.
“Oh, shit. They’re looking right at us.”
“Drive!” Gage yelled. “Now!”
The car lurched forward, tires spinning on sleet and salt.
“What the fuck! They’re running after us.”
Roz grunted as he took a sharp turn and hit the curb with his back tire.
“Running?”
“Yeah, on foot. Who the fuck are these guys, G?” Roz sounded as if he was freaking out.
Oh my God.
“They split up.”
They’re going to box us in.
“Get us as far from here as you can, and fast,” Gage ground out, bracing a hand on the dashboard.
“I’m trying.”
“Floor it.”
Roz cursed. “I’ve got twenty years of prison time sitting in this car, Gage. Unregistered weapons and aiding a fugitive? I can’t go on a high-speed chase.”
“The police will be the least of our worries if those guys catch us.”
Roz hesitated for half a second, then slammed his foot down on the accelerator.
He whipped them around another corner so hard Gage’s shoulder slammed into the door.
“Do you see them?”
Roz was breathing hard as if he were pushing the car instead of driving it. “No, I— No. I think we lost ’em.”
No, we haven’t.
Gage’s skin buzzed, and the hairs on his arms lifted as though they were warning him a storm was brewing.
“Faster,” he urged.
“Dammit, Gage. Talk to me.”
Gage could hear the leather creaking where Roz gripped the steering wheel.
“Are these the guys who took you?”
“No,” he said, jaw tight. “But I think they’re the ones who’re supposed to take me back…or finish the job.”
