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The static of the three-way call couldn’t disguise the bone-deep weariness in the youngest sister’s tone. Miranda’s triplet early-warning system blared in her head. “What happened?”
“My slug of an ex-boyfriend posted some pictures I sent him on the web.”
“So?” Natalie’s voice zinged through the speakers. “There are pictures from your modeling days online already. Your Google image search is about a billion pages long.”
“I’m naked in these, and the lighting is awful.”
Natalie sputtered something incomprehensible.
Shock stunted Miranda’s reaction speed so much that she nearly missed the turn onto the highway to get to Uncle Julian’s house.
“Can’t you make him take them down?” If she hadn’t been driving, Miranda would have crossed her fingers in hope.
“Wish I could, but since I sent them to him, my lawyer tells me the law considers the pictures a gift, and the tiny-dick douche bag can do whatever he wants with them.”
The muttered statement proved once again that Olivia’s taste in men was so bad she could pick the one jerk hidden among a million angels. Seriously, the girl needed to consider switching teams. But Miranda couldn’t say that out loud. Not while the wound was still raw. But she had to speak before Natalie recovered and started spouting one of her patented will-you-ever-learn speeches.
Grasping for something to say, Miranda uttered the first non-I-told-you-you-should-never-send-naked-selfies she could think of. “That…sucks.”
“Pretty much.” Damn, she hated hearing Olivia sound so defeated.
“I hate to add to the crap heap, but Tyrell is pushing the county council to make it illegal to manufacture alcohol in Hamilton County.” Miranda turned off the highway and onto the two-mile-long dirt driveway leading to Uncle Julian’s old house. “If he succeeds, Sweet Salvation Brewery is no more. People will lose their jobs, and I’ll be standing right behind them in the unemployment line.”
Natalie found her voice. “We can’t let that happen.”
“Agreed.” She eased off the gas as she approached the one-lane covered bridge over Lazy Creek. When no other cars appeared on the opposite side, she continued onto the bridge. “We need a plan of attack.”
“What if we…”
A camouflage-painted monster truck peeled around the bend in the driveway and barreled onto the narrow bridge, coming straight at her. A stark white fear pushed the rest of Natalie’s words into the background.
“Oh, my God!” Miranda’s scream sounded so far away to her own ears.
Her gaze flew to the wooden beams that spanned the side of the bridge. There wasn’t enough room for the two vehicles to pass. Instead of slowing down, the truck sped up. Her heart clogged her throat, and panic drowned out the frantic questions her sisters yelled out from the car speakers.
She slammed on her breaks. Her Lexus’s tires squealed and the scent of burnt rubber filled the car. Acting on instinct, she shifted into reverse and stomped the gas pedal to the floor. Her car flew backwards, but like a monster in a horror movie, the truck kept coming, its engine roaring.
The truck’s dirt-caked grill filled the view out of the front windshield. She put everything she had into pushing the gas pedal. Her thigh strained with effort. Her car shimmied when the tires crossed from the wooden bridge back to the dirt road, and her hands slid against the steering wheel. The truck’s bumper collided with the Lexus, jarring her foot from the pedal. It didn’t matter. The car continued its backwards trajectory as the truck pushed it at speeds that turned everything into a blur.
Squeezing her eyes shut against the terror, she gripped the steering wheel with both hands.
Slammed both feet against the brake pedal.
Jerked the wheel to the right.
Swung around by centripetal force, her shoulder slammed into the driver’s side door and her head cracked against the window as the Lexus spun out of the truck’s path. By the time she opened her eyes, all she could see of the monster truck from hell was the cloud of dirt kicked up by its tires as it headed toward the highway.
Her lungs ached from the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. It whooshed out of her lungs, and she immediately sucked in fresh air to fill her burning lungs. A haze softened the edges of her vision, and the world tilted sharply to the left, taking her stomach with it. Determined not to puke in her car, she tried to reach for the door handle but couldn’t release her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
“Miranda! Miranda! Are you all right?” Natalie’s and Oliva’s high-pitched voices overlapped as they filtered out from the car speakers.
Snapped out of her daze, her hands fell from the steering wheel. She clamped her teeth together and swallowed, forcing the acidic bile back down her throat.
“I’m okay.” Miranda clasped her trembling hands together tight enough to make her bones crack. “I’m okay.”
The trio of county sheriff’s office cruisers formed a semicircle around her Lexus, which stuck out onto the dirt road at a forty-five degree angle. The front bumper had crumpled under the attack. One headlight had shattered. And when she’d spun out of the truck’s oncoming path,
she’d smacked the Lexus’s back quarter panel against an Eastern Hemlock tree.
