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All sense of time and space was squeezed into split-second, crystallized frames of heightened awareness as Jordan’s adrenal glands dumped a torrent of epinephrine into her bloodstream. Now, with a blitz of glucose rioting through her veins, a sudden increase in muscular strength, blood pressure and newly opened airways tilted her performance levels to spike into the range of superhuman capacity. The afterburn effect of the adrenaline rush blew past the finite sweep of her own fear into the rarified environs of the infinitely possible. It would be like riding on the back of a tiger at full speed. She would deal with the organic state of chemically-induced depression later. Her heart raced. Every color was saturated. She breathed in deeply and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
“Strap in, Knox. It’s going to get brutal.”
Her eyes, newly dilated by increased levels of oxytocin, absorbed the dim light of the darkened street and magnified it to pick out the otherwise invisible shapes that populated their escape route. She would need to judge the distance to the side alley as she silently counted the yards down in her mind. Every muscle in her body tensed with anticipation as she prepared for the turn. At the speed they were traveling, she would need to accurately calculate the effect of applied physics in an all-or-nothing attempt that would successfully get them through a series of evasive maneuvers.
“Fuck Jordan, what the—” Knox grunted as Jordan cranked the wheel and slammed the accelerator halfway through the turn. “Holy shit! Ease up!” Knox glanced into the passenger side rearview mirror. Nothing. Her ragged breath pumped by a heaving chest, pushed out a hopeful message caught in the back of her throat.
“Okay... we’re okay. Nobody’s coming. Yess! You awesome bitch! We made it!” Knox’s head snapped around. “You did it, Jordan. We lost them!”
“Yes, but you’re the one who slowed them down. Team effort, girl! Now, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Jordan said as she concentrated on weaving through side streets and alleys to stay out of sight. She didn’t relax the tight hold she had on the steering wheel until the Jeep rocked to a stop in the driveway of her beach house.
“Fuck! What. A. Rush!” Knox said, as she stared at Jordan. “I know you’re jacked on adrenaline, sister, so hear me now. I know how hard it is to stay focused when that shit’s pounding through your veins. We’ve both been there before. Makes you feel superhuman. Getting stoned on your own chemicals in a live combat situation is the ultimate high, right? Your blood’s up, pounding in your ears. You’re on full tilt.” A shit-eating grin pulled at the corners of Jordan’s mouth as she snorted out a giddy laugh. “Oh, fuck me! Does that bring back some crazy memories or what? Woo-hoo!”
The laughter was infectious. Knox looked on, wide-eyed, while Jordan’s face contorted into involuntary fits of uncontrolled laughter and crying. It was funny until it wasn’t anymore. She was about to go off the edge.
“Let’s not do that again, please.” Knox’s voice was brittle as she struggled with the unexpected emotions flooding her system. She hadn’t used a gun or rifle, apart from practicing to keep her skills honed, since that last tour in Sudan… when she’d been shot and nearly died. The gunshots brought back the pain; it was as if she could suddenly feel the bullets slicing into her guts, as if blood were still draining over her shirt, running warm through the coarse material of her pants. Her stomach lurched. It was like a fresh punch of PTSD she’d struggled to overcome for so long. She breathed in deeply as she closed her eyes and used the meditation techniques that had been her savior at the time. She felt the tension flow from her… bit by bit.
“You’re right.” Jordan glanced at her. “You okay, Knox?” Concern flashed through her mind as she noticed how pale she appeared in the dim lights from the dashboard.
“I am now.” Knox flashed a weak smile.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I should never have asked you to come with me.”
“I would’ve been seriously pissed if you hadn’t. Alone, you would’ve been killed tonight. I’m fine, Jordan. I just needed a moment to compose myself… let’s just not fucking do this again.”
“I promise. I keep saying this but it’s time we stick to what we decided we’re going to do when we started the Red Reign PI Agency. We’ve been taking too many chances lately. I for one, am tired of dodging bullets. I’ve had more than enough of that as an army ranger.”
“Touché. I don’t know about you but I could murder a couple of Vodka gimlets. Please tell me you’ve got some serious grog inside.”
“Indeed I do.” Jordan smiled at her as they got out of the Jeep. “How does an eighteen-year-old Fine Oak Macallan sound?”
“That’s a three-hundred dollar bottle of whiskey. Sure you wanna open it?”
“Hell yes. I need to dull my senses.” She walked around the Jeep and bemoaned the shattered window. “Poor baby.”
“Care to explain just what the fuck happened to your car, Miss Sutton?”
“Oh, fuck. We’re in deep shit now,” Jordan muttered as Brock’s deep voice washed over her.
“Whaddaya mean,we?” Knox said in a side whisper as they turned to face a fuming Brock.
“I’m waiting, Jordan.”
“And you can keep on waiting, mister. I’m not about to become the late night show for the whole fucking neighborhood. Inside, Carter… and if you play nice, I might tell you.”
“You really like walking point, don’t you?” Knox whispered as she followed Jordan inside.
“You know me… I laugh in the face of danger.”
“Ah… so that’s what you’re after. Inciting him enough to get a good spanking out of it?”
“Well, he does offer a delightful whopping.”
Jordan was still ramped up, hiding behind a mask of bravado. As the euphoria leached away and the dull ennui of reality jerked her back, acute nausea made its appearance. The intoxication from organic opiates that had released enormous amounts of dopamine in her brain began to have the effects of severe withdrawal.
Brock watched as the blood drained from her face, leaving her with a ghostly pallor. Maybe this time she’d pushed her luck a little too far.
Chapter Thirteen
