Page 82 of Protected from Torment

“Did someone just shoot at us?” she asks. “Was that a bullet that just went through⁠—”

Another crack rings out.

I duck my head.

One of the rear tires goes soft, dragging the car to the right.

“Shit,” I hiss. “Fuck.”

Pressing the gas pedal to the floor, I wrestle with the steering wheel while trying to stay ahead of the truck. But they have the advantage in that one of their damn tires doesn’t have a bullet hole in it.

“Call Rafe,” I tell Melissa. “We need backup.”

She grabs my phone from the console and says, “I can’t get into it. It needs your face⁠—”

I take the phone and hold it up for a second before handing it back to her. “He’s in my recent calls. Tell him to call the local cops. The car has a tracker on it, so he can give them our exact location. And⁠—”

With a tremendous jolt, the truck hits our rear bumper.

The car skids.

Melissa yelps. Then I hear her whispering into the phone, “Rafe. We’re in trouble. Someone’s shooting⁠—”

Another bullet strikes the back of the car, this time hitting metal.

A dozen possibilities spin through my mind—trying a tactical move to turn around, grabbing my gun and shooting back at them, pulling over—as I try to work out the best of them.

Which option gives us the best chance of survival?

Which option gives Melissa the best chance of getting out of this?

“We need to turn around,” I tell her. “We can’t outrun them like this. And there’s nowhere close to turn off.”

On the other end of the call, I can hear Rafe asking, “What’s going on, Melissa? Put the call on speaker so I can talk to Tyler.”

But there’s no time. Not when the truck is already gearing up to hit us again. Not when another bullet could hit Melissa.

“It’s going to be rough for a second,” I explain. “As soon as we get to the next straightaway, I’m going to pull the emergency brake, then take us into a one-eighty. Then I’m going to find a place to pull off so we can hide.”

Melissa grabs my leg. Her nails dig in. “Okay.”

“It’s going to be alright,” I promise grimly. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

CHAPTER 16

MELISSA

“Get ready.”

Tyler shoots a quick glance at me. His expression is equal parts anger and worry. “Just past this curve,” he continues. “Brace yourself. It could be rough⁠—”

“I know.” Fighting my fear, I work to keep my voice steady. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Mel.” Regret twists his features. “I wish there was another way⁠—”

Another gunshot rings out, pinging off metal.

Despite my best attempts not to panic, a terrified screech slips out.