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To give himself a few more seconds of time, Jasper inhaled deeply, then ran at his half-brother like the devil was on his heels. As Gerald grinned and twirled the knife, settling himself into a receiving position, Jasper leaped. The flying kick was dead on target, his boots slamming into the broad chest and sending Gerald stumbling back onto the opposite side of the road as Jasper hit the ground.
Pain seared his thigh, down his back. Stunned, he laid where he'd fallen and realized he couldn't move. Physically could not move. Groaning, he watched Gerald stumble to his feet, swaying in place. Both of them had taken hard knocks, but only one of them was down and out.
Unfortunately, he was that one.
***
Chapter Seventeen
This couldn't be happening.
It wasn't happening.
Oh fuck, yes it was.
Anarchy's hands gripped the steering wheel of the massive truck with white knuckles. Never in her life had she driven anything like Jasper's truck, and she hadn't dreamed she'd be thrown in at the deep end. The phrase ride or diewas stuck in her head, spinning around and around, but it was sounding more likedrive or die! Drive or die!
Jasper was talking to one of the killers; she could hear his voice through the glass and the insane buzzing in her ears. She didn't want him to be out there—he should be in herewith her. Part of her was tempted to get out, to offer herself in exchange for him, because something in her gut was screaming he was going to die. It didn't care that he was trained, that his formative years revolved around making him a master of pain and death.
Two killers against one, she thought. Two highly trained individuals with a mission against one man whose training had lapsed and his desire to kill had dwindled.
He was seriously outnumbered.
The engine was running. In order to obey his order to run, all she had to do was put her foot on the gas pedal and shove the truck into drive. That was simple enough, yet she couldn't do it. She couldn't leave him to end up like the man she'd heard die over speakerphone. Smushed over the road like roadkill. Dead and gone like her mother, her grandma.
She jumped when something banged against the side of the truck. It sounded like someone was trying to hammer through the truck body. She slammed her foot on the accelerator, managed to set the gear into drive but the truck remained where it was, wheels spinning.
The man in front of the truck took off, coming around the hood with a malicious gleam in his dark eyes.
Anarchy prepared herself for an attack, her thoughts going blank, then she realized he wasn't coming for her—he was heading straight for Jasper.Panicked, her brain flopped around in her head like a dying fish while her body took over and did something to get the powerful vehicle shooting forward. The tires found traction and the road ahead of her was wide open.
Almost hyperventilating, she tried not to throw up. When she pressed her hand to her mouth, she felt glass against her lips and realized she still held Jasper's phone clutched forgotten in her fist. Attempting to keep her sanity and the truck on the road, she jammed her thumb against the number one.
The speakers buzzed with the call, echoing in her head. Shit, she wasn't really going to throw up, was she? Oh yeah, it was a definite possibility.
"Jasper? What the fuck is going on?" Atticus's voice boomed into the cab, terse and frightening.
Anarchy's voice died.
"Jasper? Jasper! Fuck." There was the briefest pause, then, "Brother, if you can hear me, you need to say something. Make a noise. Anything. Fucking say something!"
It was enough of a command to sit the submissive in her up straight and comply. "Master Atticus."
"Anarchy. Fuck, Anarchy. Where are you? Where's Jasper?"
"I think he's not far from Avalon. They ambushed us. K-Killed Michael and..." She couldn't see the headlights of the car she'd left behind. A glance at the speedometer told her she was well over the speed limit at almost ninety miles an hour. Anxiety and the full force of what she'd heard, of what she'd left behind, hit her like a fist in the belly.
She slammed the brakes on, almost catapulted herself through the windshield, then dropped the phone, fumbled with the lock, and threw herself out of the truck. Hands on her knees, she bent over and lost the contents of her stomach on the road, including a hefty portion of her stomach lining.
"Anarchy!" Atticus shouted from behind her, his voice loud enough to make the speakers shake.
Shaky, nauseous, she wiped tears and saliva from her face, then straightened. "I'm here. I'm still here."
"I know it's hard, little bit, but I need you to update me as best you can. I'm spinning in circles here and I need all the help I can get."
"So do I." She clambered back into the vehicle and closed the door. Rested her head on the steering wheel. "Michael wasn't following us when we left Avalon. Jasper called him and we...one of them killed him. We heard him die." Oh God, her stomach was knotting with the urge to vomit a second time. She swallowed back the urge and managed to choke out the rest. "Something was thrown in front of us, and then there was a car behind us and—"
"Slow down, little bit. Take a deep breath."
