Page 67 of Promise of Punishment

The lights draw closer, too high to belong to a car. For a second, I think of the guy at the gas station but dismiss it as just another trucker.

Soon, the headlights are on my tail, casting a white glare through the inside of my car, blinding me in the rearview mirror. I tilt my head, wanting to wave for him to go around, but I can’t unlock my death grip from the wheel.

The dark road stretches on, offering no turns, no exits, nowhere to pull over and take a second to think—breathe. The truck stays close behind me.

“Go around,” I shout, anger mixing with my fear.

I roll down my window, letting in the rain and cool night air, and wave for the truck to pass me.

His engine revs, making my pulse sputter, then he shifts to the other lane and drives by. It’s a huge black truck just like the one at the gas station.

Time stands still for a moment.

It’s not the same truck. I’m in the country. Trucks are in the country. And it’s night. The color could have been dark blue or brown, not black. It’s fine. I’m fine.

He races ahead until his taillights disappear around a bend and the rain slows to a light drizzle.

I sag back against the seat and loosen my grip, my fingers aching. A laugh escapes me, the sound too loud in the now quiet car. Rain drips onto my arm. I close the window and just breathe. The GPS comes back to life. Thank God. Four more miles to the nearest on-ramp.

The windshield wipers barely swipe as I continue down the dark road. A minute later, headlights appear, coming toward me in the opposite lane. They sit high. Another truck? The same one?

My lungs squeeze.

It passes by in a blinding blur. Nothing about this feels safe. I press harder on the gas.

Tires screech, jerking my gaze to the rearview mirror. Red taillights swing as the truck turns around. Its headlights are once again behind me, growing larger by the second.

“Oh god!” I squeeze the wheel, bracing for impact.

The truck slams into my rear bumper. My head snaps forward, and the seat belt locks across my body. The car fishtails, and I fight the wheel.

Heart hammering, I stomp the gas and try to outrun him. My fingers clench the steering wheel so tightly they hurt as I try to stay straight on a road that suddenly feels too narrow. The headlights surge closer again.

The second hit comes from the side. Metal shrieks, and my car is shoved off the road, tumbling down a slope. The world tilts violently. The ceiling becomes the floor, and then the ceiling again. My head slams hard, and stars burst behind my eyes. Glass explodes and pain blooms everywhere at once. Something warm runs down my face.

I blink, my vision too blurry to see, then everything goes quiet.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, I glimpse red lights pulsing through the darkness. Muffled voices sound, echoing as if underwater. My body feels weightless, like I’m floating. Blurry shapes move above me. A thick cushion wraps around my neck.

Then darkness.

Wes

The text comes through while I’m talking to Trae about our operation to finish off Fable’s dad, like I should have all those years ago.

Camila: Fable is gone.

My mind cuts to the past when I heard those words before from William.

“I need to call you back, Trae.” I end the call, shove away from my desk, and ring Camila as I pace my high-rise office. Every step is an attempt to keep from losing my shit.

She answers on the first ring, but I don’t give her time to speak. “Gone where?”

She should know this. Jace keeps tabs on the staff’s comings and goings.

“I don’t know,” she replies with worry. “Noah was the last person to see her after her virtual visit with the doctor.”

“And when was that?” I force through clenched teeth.