Page 252 of Promise Not to Fall for the Rich & Famous

“Rem says an old patrol car went missing from a station in Dalhart last week,” Wade said. “Can you see the plates?”

Nash hunched closer to the wheel, eyes squinting as he checked the side view. “They’re too close.” He punched down hard on the gas pedal. “Wyatt,” he urged, “can they verify this guy or not?”

“Not yet. They’re sending their nearest officers this way.”

Ellie’s heart was beating so fast it felt like it might blow. “It’s them,” she said, “it’s got to be them.”

“Just keep going, Nash,” Wyatt instructed. He switched his phone to the other hand. Ellie had forgotten that he and Wadehad guns. Forgotten, that is, until Wyatt pulled his from its holster.

This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t have possibly found them.

That thought was knocked from her mind as the patrol car revved up and rammed into the corner of the bumper.

The truck spun off course at the impact, its tires peeling out in a hot screech that rang through the cab louder than the sirens.

The unrelenting inertia slammed Ellie against the locked straps of her seatbelt, but her neck was still trying to keep up, head spinning, gravity swaying, their fate, spiraling out of control. Ellie squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her hands, waiting for the motion to stop, knowing once it did, a world of commotion would begin.

CHAPTER 25

Nash held tight to the wheel with both hands as the truck screeched to a halt.

The passenger side rocked off the ground, shifting gravity before slamming back down with a nauseating thud.

Go!It was the only word Nash could hear or think. He had to get them out of there.

Barely glancing about to gain his bearings, Nash lifted his foot off the brake and moved it to the gas pedal once more. Yet just before he floored it, a pair of bright, oncoming headlights illuminated the cab. His first instinct was to hit the gas anyway, maneuver around the vehicle as needed, and get out of there.

"That’s not the officers, is it?” Ellie asked frantically.

The vehicle screeched to a stop before them, slanting sideways to block the truck’s path.“That’s definitely not a cop,” Nash said, his own headlights illuminating the sight. It was one of those big moving trucks with a separate cab up front.

"Not unless it’s undercover,” Wade said. “Maybe it is, and they just sent out their closest guys.”

Nash began lifting his foot off the brake. “Wyatt?” he prompted.

"I lost my phone,” came Wyatt from the backseat, his voice muffled. “Just keep going."

Nash slammed on the gas once more, desperate to get around the stopped vehicle and away from the crazy patrol car.

A patrol car he’d almost forgotten about. Nash barely glanced at the side view mirror in time to see the thing headed for their truck at full force.

Lights frantically flashing, siren hauntingly crying, the patrol car rammed the side of the truck so hard the engine died and the airbags deployed, hitting Nash in the face like a knockout punch.

Within seconds, glass shattered on Ellie's side of the car.

"Ellie!” he screamed, unable to see amidst the yards of inflated fabric. More glass shattered, this time the driver’s side window.

Nash reached for his lap to unfasten the buckle when his door flung open. Something heavy, sharp, and seemingly invisible jammed against the top of his head, and everything went black.

Nash woke up to pounding in his head and sheer panic in his heart.

"Ellie," he blurted, opening his eyes and glancing about to orient himself. He was lying face down on a hard, cold floor in a dark room. A room that was moving.

The moving truck.They’d put him in the trailer.

He frantically patted the space around him as he sat up. "Ellie, are you in here?" His palm met with the rounded slope of one shoulder. A shoulder too small and delicate to be Wyatt’s or Wade's.

He couldn't even think about where his brothers were yet; he was far too focused on Ellie's motionless state as he moved his hand further down her arm. He jostled her to get a response, whispering her name once more.