“Good girl. Here we go.”
I drop a gear and take a sharp right without signaling. The old car shudders, but holds the road. Nothing falls off and I throw out a silent, thank you.
The SUV follows.
It’s her attacker.
My senses open up the way they do when a mission goes hot. The edges of my vision sharpen. Sounds amplify around me—the rattle of the dash, Jade’s breathing, the whine of the transmission protesting the gear I’m holding it in.
“Okay,” I mutter to him. “Let’s see how committed you are.”
“What are you doing?” she asks, panic raising her tone.
“Testing them.”
I take another turn, tighter this time, just enough to force a decision behind us. The sedan leans hard, tires barking against the pavement. Jade’s hand shoots to the dash.
At the next intersection, I push through without slowing. Horns blare as we steal the right-of-way.
The SUV hesitates. Just a fraction. Then it turns behind us. Still there.
“Yeah,” I say under my breath. “Thought so.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, her voice tight.
“It means they’re willing to work for it.”
I cut left again, then turn right, tightening the pattern. Running a mental map of the blocks around us. Looking for the right scenario.
A gas station appears up ahead.
“See that gas station? It has two entrances. The far exit dumps onto a parallel road that curves away behind a row of buildings. If I hit it fast enough, they’ll overshoot the first entrance and lose visual.”
“Oh my goodness,” she wheezes.
“Listen to me,” I use a calm, firm tone. “If I tell you to get down, you get down. No hesitation.”
“I’ll do whatever you say,” she tells me, and there’s no hesitation in her voice. Scared as hell, but she trusts me.
“Going right!”
Working the wheel with one hand, the shifter with the other, I turn hard. Swing the car into the gas station lot, threading between the pumps, then out the far exit without braking.
Jade’s neck bobbles and her elbow smacks the window, making me curse.
In the mirror, the SUV overshoots the entrance. It keeps going in the stream of traffic.
I don’t let up. I take the next right, then another left, putting two more turns between us and the last place they saw us. Onlywhen I’ve run a full counter-surveillance pattern, do I allow myself to exhale.
“Looking good,” I report as I flex my hands on the wheel, loosening my hold.
She’s still hanging on.
“We’re good,” I tell her, reaching over and gripping her thigh for a second, before resting my hand on the shifter.
Jade finally takes a big, cleansing breath. “You were so relaxed.”
“Letting myself get emotional only puts you in more danger.”
