Page 92 of Detroit


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I was on the other side of the park.

Closer to the schools.

But I’d run without thinking, so I was running deeper into the woods, heading back toward the damn trailer park. Where I was less likely to get help than if I’d run toward the schools.

It was too late, though.

I couldn’t turn around now.

Not with Gray gaining on me.

Unlike Gav, Gray was more fit. He did spend time at the gym. On the damned treadmill too.

He was also taller, longer-legged.

I didn’t have long before he caught up to me.

I broke through the tree line at the other end of the park when I felt his hand close around my forearm, wrenching me back so hard that I think he dislocated my shoulder.

A cry escaped me.

But I stopped it.

Then sucked in a breath as I saw the police cars a couple dozen yards away.

And I screamed like my life depended on it.

It did.

My throat ached as a sound escaped me that felt bigger than something I could make.

I saw people.

Were they coming toward me?

I didn’t know.

What I did know, though, was that a needle pricked my skin.

My gaze slipped over, and I watched as the plunger shot the drugs into my system.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Detroit

My gun was out as I tore open the door to the trailer where Melissa lived.

Her whole body jolted as I charged inside.

“Where is she?” I demanded, suddenly, for the first time in my life, not giving a single fuck about scaring a woman.

Melissa stepped backward, dropping her ass down into one of the folding chairs in her small dining space between the kitchen and the living room.

“She’s not here,” she said.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” I seethed.

“I’m not!” Melissa squeaked. “She was here. He just left with her.”

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