Page 107 of Violent Little Thing

Chris had had no plans of stopping. Not even for small children who looked like they were barely out of diapers.

With my heart in my throat, I came up alongside the truck and spun the wheel, catching him on his back half and spinning him until his truck was pointed at the mouth of the Walmart entrance.

I nearly groaned when he started to head into the Walmart.

“Goddammit,” I snapped.

But, instead of speeding through the pedestrian-riddled rows of Walmart, Chris bailed out of the truck.

The truck continued to speed forward, heading right toward the gas station in the middle of the lot.

A woman who was filling her vehicle up looked up to see the truck barreling toward her and froze, her mouth open in a comical O.

Or it would’ve been comical had this situation been even the least bit funny.

But it wasn’t.

It was terrifying.

Going with my instincts, I drove forward, cutting off the moving truck from going any further.

The truck slammed hard into my door, and I felt my neck jerk sideways, pain shooting up the side of my throat.

Other police officers—five in total that’d eventually been able to get into the area—went after the suspect after seeing I had it handled over on my end.

Little did they know I wasn’t a cop.

I hadn’t once picked up the radio to identify myself, either.

Though, I knew that Black knew.

There was no way he didn’t.

I bailed out of the cruiser on the other side seeing as I had a grill smashed into my side and hurried around the side of the truck.

More officers were there, but I ran right for the back door and yanked it open.

Charleigh was passed out on her side, the seat belt the only thing holding her upright.

I looked down at her leg and nearly puked.

I could see her femur, a jagged point, sticking out of the middle of her jeans.

“Fuck,” I said when I saw her. “We need a medic!”

“Who are you?” someone barked.

I didn’t answer, my hands going to Charleigh’s face.

“Charleigh, baby,” I said urgently. “Wake up for me, baby.”

When she didn’t wake up, I pressed my fingers against her throat and nearly cried with relief when I felt the solid but fast thrum of her pulse.

“Get out of the way, sir,” someone said from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see a medic there with her bag, and immediately backed up.

I wasn’t a dummy.