My hand dashed out in front of me, bracing against the space above the glove compartment. This was not happening. I snuck a glance behind us, assessing the situation. He had dropped back as Kenna swerved into her lane again. Not that there was any oncoming traffic. The roads were still deserted. “What is this guy's fucking problem?” I gritted out.
“I don’t know, but we have got to get out of here,” Grayson barked.
Kenna pushed the BMW harder, but it was no match for the truck behind us.
“Firefly,” a deep voice said from the phone pressed to my ear.
Fucking finally. I let out a sigh of relief. Just hearing his voice somehow made me feel safer, which was crazy because we were still very much in trouble. “Brock, I—”
BAM!
Metal crunched against metal, a shrill sound that pierced my ears. Kenna lost control of the car, the impact sending the BMW into a tailspin. She struggled with the steering wheel, trying to gain some sort of control, but there was nothing either of us could do.
Kenna and I screamed, our cries echoing in the same high pitch of terror. The car hit the edge of the road and flipped over and over and over. I had no clue how many times the compact car rolled. The world just spun.
My head flew against the window, cracking against the glass.Brock. Even as stars danced behind my eyes and my vision blurred, I swore I heard him call my name.
Then it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, because it all went black.