Page 46 of Christmas Captive


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“Hey!” a voice yelled out downstairs.

Not her partner’s voice.

“FBI, Mr. Zabkar,” Tom informed him. “Please—”

Her partner was cut off by a weapon firing.

Chloe was already on the stairs by then, running down them. “Put the weapon, down, Mr. Zabkar,” she ordered.

When he saw her, he paused for a moment, and she thought he was going to shoot at her too. But he didn't. Instead, he turned and fled.

She ran straight to her partner.

He was standing, leaning back against the wall clutching at his leg.

Which was coated in blood.

“Tom?”

“It’s nothing, a flesh wound. Go after him,” her partner said. His face was tight with pain, but his eyes were clear, his voice strong, and his color good.

Leaving him to call in backup, Chloe grabbed the keys he held out and dashed outside in time to see a car take off up the street, tires screeching.

She was in the car and following him by the time he rounded the corner.

She called in her location and the description of the car.

She had her sirens going, and she had caught up to him,following close behind, but he was refusing to pull over.

He had to know he wasn't getting away—other police cars were coming, and he’d be boxed in and forced to stop. He may as well just do it now and get it over with.

They had just rounded another corner when he accelerated, putting a little distance between them. Before she could speed up, he had hung a U-turn and was heading straight for her.

He’d obviously floored the gas; he was coming at her quicker.

He wasn’t stopping.

They were going to collide.

At the last minute, Chloe turned the wheel sharply, avoiding crashing into Harley Zabkar’s car, but placing her directly in line with a pole.

She didn’t have time to swerve.

A major sense of déjà vu filled her. This was just like the day she had lost her son.

A moment later, her car hit the pole with a bone-shuddering thunk.

Her body was slammed into the steering wheel, then yanked back by the seat belt.

Pain swallowed her up, and she sank into the blackness.

*****

12:21 P.M.

“Are you coming back?” Taylor watched him anxiously.

“I’ll stop by to say goodnight at the end of my shift before I go home,” Fin told her. When he’d come into her room last night, she had calmed instantly. Her family hadn’t been thrilled about that, and to be honest, he wasn't either. He didn't want to be the only thing that calmed Taylor down.

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