My fast reaction prevented the direct and unavoidably fatal collision into the driver’s side door, but the sound of metal crashing against metal filling the void around us tells me what’s about to happen, so I brace Maddie the best I can with one arm across her chest.
The world spins out of control, and Maddie’s screams echo through the enclosed space. I clench my jaw and force myself to stay calm, squeezing my eyes shut and breathing deep to try and stay as centered as possible. I attempt to avoid getting dizzy so I’m not disoriented for too long, give them an opportunity to take her from right beside me, but there’s only so much I can do to fight the centrifugal force of the car.
When the vehicle finally comes to a screeching halt, I suck in measured breaths, willing my body to find balance and refocus the world, blindly trying to grab my sidearm as heavy steps approach.
The world starts to realign, and my fingers close over the grip, but it’s too late. There’s a loud shatter, and shards of glass fly through the air, pricking at my skin before a fist makes contact with my face. I’m thrown off balance again, and I hear Maddie scream. Her feet fumble against my seat when, I assume, she presses herself against the passenger side door in an attempt to put distance between herself and the man who punched me.
“Maddie, run!” I shout in a voice rough with pain and dizziness, my blood freezing when the sound of a cocking pistol clicks right at my ear.
My only regret when a gunshot rings out is Maddie having to witness my gruesome end and all the things I’ll never have with her.
* * *
Maddie
Oh, God. A sob is wrenched from my lungs. My hand holding the Glock I hacked out of the motel safe while Sawyer was sleeping is shaking uncontrollably.
Sawyer turns wide eyes to me when the man holding a gun to his head drops to the road with a heavy thud and a grunt.
Before I register what’s happening, Sawyer grabs the gun from me and fires two rounds into the darkness. This time the body that falls to the ground doesn’t even make a sound, just a pile of flesh hitting the asphalt with all its dead weight.
“Move, Maddie,” Sawyer orders in a thick voice, already pulling the duffle bag from the backseat.
With trembling fingers, I grab my backpack and let Sawyer help me to the driver’s side and out of the car, forcing my legs to run to the black vehicle that hit us, the front is crumpled but, contrary to our ride, it’s still drivable. I climb in after Sawyer makes sure the two men now lying on the road were the only ones, and he speeds up to the exit south.
We drive in silence for a while. I keep my eyes on Sawyer’s face, afraid to look anywhere else, watching as the little drops of blood staining his face dry up, but he doesn’t seem to feel it. His hard gaze is fixed on the road, cold and calculated.
“I shot someone,” I finally whisper once we’re on I-65 South. The additional traffic is almost a guarantee that Harlow’s guys, even if still after us, won’t try anything.
“He was still alive,” Sawyer reassures me. “You did what you had to do, Maddie. We made it out thanks to you.”
“He had a gun to your head.” I sniff and lean back and close my eyes, suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue. “It was an easy choice.”
“Pulling the trigger is never an easy choice.” Sawyer’s voice is layered with a graveness I’ve never heard before, and when I look at him, worry lines are etched at the corners of his mouth.
I reach out and smooth my thumb over those lines, wanting nothing more than to make them disappear. “Making the hard choice for you will always be easy.”
For a moment, he turns a tender gaze to me, and I catch a glimpse of the purple mark blooming on his cheeks. Then his eyes harden as they return to the road. “We need to ditch this car, fast.”
His face is fixated ahead, but I can see his eyes scan in every direction. Suddenly, he breaks off the freeway, steering the car under a bridge where several women are standing, starting to approach us as we near their spot.
The first one to reach us when Sawyer rolls down the tinted window looks to be in her fifties, but the wear and tear of life make it impossible to know for sure. The abundance of cheap makeup creates a mask that hides anything other than what she wants prospective johns to see.
“Looking for company, honey?” She scans Sawyer up and down, staring at his wounded face for a couple of seconds, then her dull blue eyes turn to me. “It’s extra for a couple, double for kink.”
“I’ll pay you triple the highest rate to get into the car and drive straight to this address.” Sawyer pulls out a wad of cash and scribbles an Ohio address on a piece of paper, not Peak Securities HQ, though.
“Nah, honey, I’m not looking for trouble.” She rakes bony fingers through her lifeless black hair, taking a frightened step back, as do all the other women waiting under the bridge.
“I’ll do it.” A girl with bubble-gum colored hair steps forward. She looks younger, cleaner, like she’s fresh on the streets.
“You sure, Diva?” the older woman asks. “This looks like bad news.” She points at the crumpled tin of the hood and leans back as fear creeps into her eyes. “You sure you want to get tangled in that mess?”
“Two G,” Diva throws at Sawyer. He digs in the bag and pulls out more rolled-up bills, signaling for me to grab my backpack and exit the car from his side.
“The people at this location will double down on the cash once you get there.” He hands her the money. “And if you ask, they’ll help you with anything you want, Diva, okay?”
Diva climbs into the Rover and looks around. “You got any snacks lying around? It’s a long drive to Ohio, and I haven’t eaten for a while.”