But just in case…
I pull my phone out and make the call I never thought I’d need this far into my training.
“Dima.” I hate how I can’t hide the tremor in my voice.
“Kai.” Concern floods through my speakers. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I got the locket from him.” The words tumble out too fast. “But he’s unhinged. The drugs didn’t immobilize him for long, and now he’s after me.”
“Okay. You did good by just getting away from him.” Dimitri’s tone shifts to that calm, controlled one he uses when I’m spiraling, when the trauma threatens to drown me. “Extract yourself. Stay low. Breathe. Just like I taught you.”
I do as he instructs and inhale in through my nose. Hold. Out through barely parted lips. The panic recedes slightly, enoughfor me to focus on the road, on the route out of the city, and on survival.
Dimitri has been the center of my world since I was nine years old.
He rescued me before Roman could finish annihilating my family. He’s always been my safe place.
“I’m on my way, Boss.” The nickname steadies me even more, reminding me that I’m not that helpless nine-year-old anymore. “Just get back to the house. Lock it down. You’ll be fine. I’m coming.”
By the time the line goes dead, I’ve wrestled down the terror and locked it away where it can’t touch me.
Max has no idea where I’m going. Though I haven’t found it, I’m positive the locket is in the bag beside me, and up ahead, my mountain sanctuary awaits.
I don’t slow down because every mile between Max and me is life or death.
Chapter 12
Nika
My truck pitches to the side with no warning.
All the uphill momentum disappears in the slip of a tread, and I seesaw backward. My stomach lurches into my throat, my spine rigid with fear. I’m too scared to peer into the mirrors once I realize how close I am to the edge of the road and the sheer drop just past the guardrail.
A rail that doesn’t look so reassuring now that I’m sliding straight at it.
In the city, the snow and rain was camouflage. Up here in the mountains, sheets of rain freeze into deadly strips of ice covered by a white blanket.
I ease off the gas, turning the steering wheel carefully until the tread catches again. The backward slide slows, then stops, reverting to an uphill climb.
I can finally breathe again.
In the distance, an orange light flashes, obscured by the thick fog of snow and windblown ice.
My rushed exhale fogs the windshield. The heater can’t keep up with the steep temperature drop, the hot air barely preventing frost from covering the windshield.
As I get closer to the orange light, I make out the words of a DOT sign with two warnings flashing over and over.
REDUCE SPEED. CHAINS REQUIRED.
While I have chains in the bed of my truck, I don’t reduce my speed or stop to put them on. For all I know, Max could be right behind me.
Every second matters.
My back end breaks loose again.
Clearly the weather doesn’t give a shit about what I want. If I’m not careful, the mountain will kill me before Max ever gets the chance.
I’m not an idiot, though. At least, I’m trying not to be after all my other screwups today.
