Darkness.
It was all I could see as I drove along the long stretch of Hill Country highway that would lead me to the place Guy was being held. The A/C on full blast, the windows down and the wind blowing through my hair, I regarded the GPS set into the dashboard with cautious consideration as I realized that it would not be long before I arrived at my destination.
It’ll be off the road, Amadeo had said, and you’ll have to get out of the truck, so make sure you’re armed.
The pistol lay on the center console—loaded, the safety on, the bullets secured in their packs of cartridges beneath the passenger seat. All I had to do once I pulled over was round the vehicle, open the passenger door, and lean under. Then I could reload and go in guns blazing. Or not. At this point, I wasn’t sure how anything would play out. I didn’t want to kill anyone. I wasn’t a violent person. But if it meant them or Guy—sociopaths who would either kill or sell Guy to those who would brutally torture him—it would be them.
I cycled through the radio in an attempt to find something to calm my nerves but was unsuccessful. Frustration eventually took the best of me and I swiped my hand over the nodule, silencing the various sounds of country and pop music instantly.
Sighing, I trained my eyes along the darkened road.
Here, so far from anywhere, the only sights revealed was the grass and the trees that flanked the road.
My paranoia over getting there rivaled that of the actual arrival. I was terrified out of my mind of hitting a deer.
I shook my head.
I had to get a hold of myself.
“Just keep your calm,” I whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
Somehow, I highly doubted that.
Blood would be spilled tonight.