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Finley straightened to attention. She twisted around in her seat. Squinted against the bright headlights. Fear had her heart leaping. “I’m calling 911.”
Matt was in the car. She wasn’t taking any chances.
Why could she not have one fucking moment of peace?
Pulse racing, she made the call. The dispatcher answered.
The car rammed into them. Finley propelled forward until the seat belt locked. Her cell flew out of her hand.
Matt focused on driving. He accelerated, rocketing forward.
Heart racing, she scrambled to find her phone. Clutched it and raised up to get a handle on where they were as she explained to the dispatcher what was happening. “Are we on Concord?” she asked Matt.
Matt divided his attention between the highway and the rearview mirror, pushing the Subaru for all it was worth. “We are. Heading into the curve next to the I-65 off-ramp.”
Finley twisted around to look behind them, the bright lights of the other vehicle blinding her. She provided their location. The other car was bearing down on them again. Fury burst inside her. Whoever this son of a bitch was ...
He rammed them again.
The car skidded and bumped off the road.
Air rushing out of her lungs, Finley grabbed on to the dash. Her phone flew away again. A gasp wrenched from her throat.
The dispatcher’s voice called out in the air.
They hit the fence that ran alongside the road, tore through it and came to a bumping, grinding halt.
“Get down,” Finley yelled at Matt, her hands instinctively reaching for him.
If the bastard had a gun, they were sitting ducks.
Seat belts came off. They hunkered down.
Fear pounding in her brain, Finley reached across Matt and shut off the interior lights. She opened her door and scooted out, staying low.
“Follow me,” she whispered. She had to keep him safe ... had to.
Matt snaked across the console and slid out of the car. They sat on the ground, the Subaru blocking them from view of the highway and the bastard who was likely parked up there and maybe heading their way.
Somewhere in the car was the sound of the 911 dispatcher’s voice.
Please, please just let her send help.
Finley turned around, got on her knees with the intention of peeking beyond the window to see if the guy was coming.
Matt pulled her back. “Stay down. You need to let someone else play the part of the hero for a change.”
Before she could argue, he crawled past her, headed for the rear end of the Subaru. Finley held her breath as he peeked around the end.
A gunshot echoed in the air.
She jumped.
Matt drew back. “He’s coming this way.”
Her brain scrambling for a workable move, she considered the distance to the tree line. Thirty or forty yards. Not good. She surveyed the streetlights and the moon that were spilling way too much light to make a run for the trees a reasonable risk even if they weren’t so damned far away.
“We have to try,” Matt murmured, following her gaze.
