“Not yet. And until I am, that’s all Daniil.”
“Has Elliott bought in?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t even pretend you guys don’t talk about everything.”
He doesn’t respond so I know I’m right.
“Allora, what do you want from me? And I need you to be very specific. I already told you I’m not good at relationship stuff so I’m not sure where to go from here. Tell me what you want and I’ll let you know if I can be who and what you need me to be.”
“Why would I—fuck! Where did that car come from?” I grip the arm rest as Landon swerves. A pickup truck literally came out of nowhere, pulling out right in front of us.
“Allora.”
“Scared the shit out of me,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“Allora.” His voice is hard, louder than necessary.
“What?” I turn to him.
“Get my phone. Code is 66245. Rage is a favorite contact. Call him on speaker. Don’t ask questions.”
He’s never barked orders at me like this before, so I grab his phone, punching in the code and pulling up Elliott’s name.
“Yo.” He answers on the first ring.
“They found us,” Grim says. “We’re about fourteen miles west of headquarters. Not quite to Temecula. They’re going to box us in.”
“I’m coming.” We can hear him moving.
“Get Luna to track us.” He disconnects.
“Landon, what’s?—”
“They’re in front of us and behind us,” he says, swerving and trying to go around the truck in front of us but can’t because there isn’t enough room. There are trees growing along the side of the road on both sides, and no shoulder. “I’m sure there’s at least one more vehicle coming, probably two. They’ll box us in and I won’t be able to stop them.”
“What do we do?”
“Can you handle a gun, baby?”
“Yes.”
“There’s one under your seat.”
I reach under me and fumble around until I find it.
“Shoot to kill. There’s only one magazine in there.”
“Landon, what?—”
“I don’t know how many there are or what kind of fire power they have, but you need to fight.”
“I will.”
My pulse races and adrenaline surges through me.
This can’t be happening.
