come out of the house but she always looked gloomy. And she always came back with some sort of fast food, like she was trying to drown her sorrows with it.
Jag had tried to mend things. But she didn’t believe him—and he understood that, even if it was painful.
Whoever visited her had done a good job. A better job than Jag ever did to mend things. Whoever it was, he would have to send a gift to after they really mended things. He would personally thank her…and somehow avoid mentioning how creepy he’d been watching and waiting from his rented car a few houses down.
When he went back to reading and Sammi turned the corner, he planned on leaving in a minute. He would need to talk about how the meeting went with Dispatch. They would take the offer. It was pretty much a done deal, but he needed to check in to pretend like he was interested. The only reason he cared was to stay back home longer.
A screech of tires jolted him in his seat.
Jag wasted no time in reacting. His protective instincts took over and he shifted into drive. The four door sedan gunned down the street, as fast as one could say a cheap car like this gunned.
Fuck this piece of shit car, I need my Venom. He had plenty of fast cars, but they wouldn’t be very good at hiding out. Slamming down on the gas, he made it around the corner, skidding out and almost toppling over, but up ahead a familiar truck raced away.
Like him, it sped away.
As he made that turn, he noticed the skid marks across the road.
No sign of Sammi, either.
“Hold on,” he growled as he slammed down on the gas again.
The black truck ahead didn’t notice him yet as it swerved out of the development. He checked twice as he approached the stop sign and blew right through it to catch up to him. The truck careened up a hill toward the entrance to the highway. It sped right up and then took off, with Jag following close behind.
“Shit, come on,” he yelled as he pumped the gas. If only he had a manual car right now, he would feel more in control.
Sammi Jo, his bride to be, struggled inside. As he sneered, leaning into the wheel, he kept pressure on the gas and used the curve of the highway to breach the gap. The truck swerved back and forth, losing speed.
An exit came up. It didn’t appear the driver would turn, but at the last minute he swung a hard right. Jag did the same. He would not let them out of his sight. The truck’s driver might try to speed away, but somehow that small, ineffectual car did more than he expected.
It closed the gap.
On a straightaway, it jerked side to side. They raced on a straight shot, a thin road with the woods surrounding them. Jag knew Tony was driving the truck. He’d be taking her far away from civilization. To do what, Jag didn’t want to know, didn’t want to think about.
An SUV passed them by on the other side. Luckily, the truck had been swerving opposite, otherwise they would’ve crashed head on.
With the opposing traffic gone, they grew more reckless. Despite the upcoming turn, they rattled back and forth. It looked for a second they would hit the edge of the road and tumble into the woods, but miraculously the truck remained straight.
If he wanted, with the right angle and right point of attack, Jag could catch up. But he didn’t want to, because right now they didn’t see him. He kept close behind but because of whatever happened inside that vehicle, it didn’t give him away.
Trees blurred past him. He kept focus, laser focus, on the truck, because he knew if he had an opportunity, he would take it.
This would be it. A long straightaway with few cars around. With the reckless driving Tony displayed, they wouldn’t make it. In fact, as he closed in, using the sharp turns to accelerate by hitting it at the right angel, the truck shook, almost spilling over.
But he saw the woods diminishing in the distance. It opened up onto a field—his time to attack. Jag sped up as the truck kept a straight line.
Country ahead, no
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