My chest tightens. "They really want to meet me?"
"They really do. What do you think? Are you ready?"
"Yes. I'm ready."
"Good. Because I was thinking?—"
My phone rings, cutting him off.
Emily's name on the screen.
"Sorry, let me just—" I answer. "Hey, what's up?"
"Chloe." Her voice is shaking. Terrified. "I need help."
I'm immediately alert. "What's wrong? Where are you?"
"I'm on Highway 285. About twenty miles outside Grand Ridge. My car has been acting funny and when I stopped it died and there's a truck that's been following me for the last ten minutes. They keep slowing down when I slow down and—Chloe, I'm scared."
Tyler hears the panic in my voice and sits up straight, instantly focused.
"Are you somewhere safe?" I ask.
"I pulled over at a gas station, but it's closed. Empty. And this truck just pulled in behind me and—" Her voice breaks. "There are two guys getting out. Chloe, what do I do?"
"Stay in your car. Lock the doors." I'm already looking at Tyler, who's grabbing his phone. "Do NOT open your door for anyone."
"They're coming toward me?—"
Tyler's already dialing. "Rampage. I need you now. Emily's car broke down on 285 about twenty miles outside town. She's being followed by two men in a truck. She's at a closed gas station and they're approaching her vehicle."
I can hear Rampage's voice through the phone, sharp and commanding, but can't make out the words.
"Okay, I’ll let her know," Tyler says into his phone, then to me, "Tell Emily to stay on the line with you. Rampage is mobilizing the club. They're seven minutes out."
"Emily, listen to me. Rampage is coming. He's bringing help. You need to stay in your car with the doors locked. Do you understand?"
"They're knocking on my window. One of them is trying the door handle—" Her breathing is coming in panicked gasps.
"Breathe, Emily. Focus on my voice. Help is coming. Seven minutes."
"I don't have seven minutes?—"
"Yes, you do. Keep your doors locked. If they break a window, you lay on the horn. Make as much noise as possible."
Tyler's pacing now, still on the phone with Rampage. "She's in a silver Honda CR-V. License plate—" He looks at me.
"Emily, what's your license plate?" She’d driven a rental truck to pick up the gym equipment last week.
She rattles it off through her tears, and I repeat it to Tyler.
"Got it. Rampage, they're trying to get in her car. She's terrified." Tyler's voice is hard. "How far out are you?"
"One of them is walking around to the passenger side," Emily sobs. "Chloe, I can't?—"
"You can. You're strong. You're brave. Keep breathing."
"They're testing all the doors. What do they want?"
