Page 31 of Trapped Truth

“Well… crap.”

“Who else knows our location?” Hyland checks the chamber on a pistol then passes it to Ember.

“Nobody outside of Sabre.”

“Care to revise your earlier analysis of your company’s trustworthiness?” Blaine drawls, gaze fixed on his phone screen.

“Shut up, Blaine,” I hurl at him. “Are you seriously texting right now?”

“Just focus on the road. Don’t get us killed.”

A sudden burst of speed behind us brings the careening truck within kissing distance. I curse, abruptly swinging right to avoid being slammed into. There’s a pained yelp from Axel as he’s thrown into the door, but I can’t drag in a breath to apologise. Not with the rampant adrenaline riding me hard.

“Bastard!” Hyland booms, straddling his seat in an attempt to find a good aim. “I’m gonna blow the window out to put a bullet in their skulls.”

“We’re on a goddamn motorway!” I shout back. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“They’re going to get us killed!”

“You can’t start a high-speed firefight.”

“One more attempt to hit us and I’m shooting!”

Another wild acceleration towards us and we’re thrown off kilter, the rental fighting me as our wheels spin in a struggle to regain traction. The sound of a bonnet to bumper impact screeches through my ear drums. It wasn’t a clean hit, but we can’t take much more in this flimsy car.

“Hand me a gun,” Blaine commands, unclipping his belt and lowering the window.

“No public gun fights!”

“Just trust me,” he replies calmly. “Ember, the gun. Now.”

She cuts a worried look between us both then hands her weapon over. “What are you going to do?”

“Watch and see. Don’t let me fall out, sweetheart.”

With that, he pushes himself up and out the window, hanging onto the SUV’s roof for leverage. Ember swears then quickly grabs his legs to hold his bottom half inside the car while the rest of him precariously dangles outside.

“Be careful!” she screams.

“Tell your idiot boyfriend to drive in a straight line!”

“Asshole.” I hold the wheel steady.

When the truck veers close again, Blaine pops off a series of well-placed shots towards the tarmac. Just as I’m about to swerve hard to throw him back inside whether he likes it or not, the echo of a burst tyre reverberates through the night.

“Hit!” Hyland declares in triumph. “Step on it, team leader.”

In the rearview mirror, I can see our friends spinning out of control, a peal of smoke erupting from their blown wheel. My foot smashes into the accelerator as we take off, leaving them to stutter and struggle.

Blaine slithers back inside like a coiled snake returning to its nest. His expression is a mask of eerie calmness as he clicks the gun’s safety back into place and hands it over.

“Problem solved. Pull off at the next junction, then take the first left.”

“What?” I gawp at him.

“Just trust me.”

In an instant, I have to make a judgement call. A few months ago, putting our lives in Blaine’s hands would’ve been unthinkable. Now we cut across several lanes on his advice, prompting a chorus of blared horns from other drivers watching the chaos unfold.