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“Denny.”
“This seems like an odd route to reach the airport, Denny.”
The driver didn’t give any outward response that he heard Jace.
He squeezed Bronte’s hand and released it so he could ease a hand around his back. When his fingers brushed the warm metal of his weapon lying against his spine, some of the tension flowed out of him.
He pitched his voice louder. “Maybe you didn’t hear me, Denny. I asked you why we’re taking this route to the airport.”
Because he was watching the driver so closely, he noticed the eyelid twitch. His hands clamping on the wheel was another dead giveaway that something was not as it seemed.
“Pull over, Denny. We’re getting out.”
The driver stomped on the gas and weaved around a car.
Bronte let out a cry as Jace lunged over the seat. He hooked his forearm around the driver’s throat and made a grab for the wheel. Denny dug his fingers into his arm and ripped it away.
“Jace! What are you doing?” Bronte screamed.
Trying not to kill them in a car crash. Denny held down the gas pedal as if he had nothing to left to lose. Jace looked up to see the vehicle speeding toward the back of a delivery truck.
He balled his fist and punched the man in the face. The blow had enough strength behind it to knock Denny out, and he slumped.
“Jace!”
He dove over the seat and thrust the limp man’s leg off the gas. Practically sitting on his lap, he attempted to get control of the car, but there wasn’t enough time.
Brake lights rushed at him through the windshield.
“Hold on!” he barked at Bronte as the car hit the back of the truck. The airbag shoved Jace back, which shoved Denny to the side.
Then he felt a hard object poking him in the ribs.
It wasn’t Bronte’s bony elbow either. Denny was conscious again.
In a defensive move, he knocked the gun Denny aimed at him to the side. It fired and the windshield shattered.
With the airbag, he didn’t have the space to wrestle over a weapon, and definitely not with a ward in the backseat.
Yes, she was his ward now, like it or not. Fiancée was optional.
Denny whipped the weapon around and fired again. This time the bullet sliced through the airbag and slammed into the dashboard. When the airbag deflated, it gave Jace more than enough space to fight.
With a roar, he threw himself into tearing that gun away from the fake driver. Bronte screamed at the top of her lungs, each peal more piercing. Jace got in a few good punches and battled for the gun.
It fired again and blood bloomed on Denny’s chest.
* * * * *
This day couldnotget any worse, and it was all Jace Abel’s fault. First the man failed to find out what files her ex-partner took…even though that might not be his fault as much as system security.
But he hadnoexcuse for the whole fiancé thingorthe scene he made at dinner.
Now there was a dead man being rolled away from the vehicle on a stretcher.
With a shaking hand, she pushed the hair off her face and watched the scene that resembled something on a movie set. The street was blocked off by rescue vehicles, with traffic stopped in both directions since the crumpled remains of the car were shoved underneath the back of the delivery truck like an oversized silver accordion.
Police crawled all over the place. Lastly, a firetruck and a few additional rescue units with flashing lights were the cherry on top of this shit-cake she called a Monday.
