Chapter Eighteen

Viper was in front of her.

“Hey, bitch,” he said. “Remember me?”

She tried to calm her body as it screamed, Fight! Run!

“No,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Viper laughed at her questions. “Nice try, Felicia,” he said, using the name she had given him when she was undercover. “Or should I call you Beth?” He jabbed the gun at her, not giving her a chance to respond. “Get in the fucking car!”

She didn’t move.

He took a step closer so she could see his gold canine tooth. “I don’t have a problem killing you now, but I don’t want to do it this close to so many pigs and firefighters. Get. In.”

She inched to the car.

Viper followed her movements. The gun never once left her head. She ducked into the car and slid as far away from Viper as she could, pressing herself into the other door. Two other men were in the car, sitting in the front seats. The driver had dreadlocks, and the man in the passenger’s seat had a small afro, but she didn’t care as much about them as she did about Viper. He angled his body and pointed the gun at her temple.

“Drive.”

The car sped off.

“Beth!” Hearing Donovan’s voice shouting her name made her heart break. She looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of Donovan running toward them before the smoke swallowed him. Overcome with fear, she faced the front and saw the car zoom past the firetrucks, the cop cars, and her house. They were taking her away from everything she knew and loved, the place she needed to be. Her palms and underarms dampened. Her heart banged against her chest and all her pressure points, making her feel like she’d explode into a million pieces.

The car zipped around the corner, almost hitting some of the people who had congregated there. She had no idea where Viper was taking her. He could just be looking for a quiet neighborhood where he could pull her out of the car, force her onto her knees, and pop the bullet in her head, execution style. Or he could be taking her somewhere special he had picked out, a house or shack out in the boonies where he could keep her for a while, forcing her to take drugs and do other things she didn’t want to think about.

After the terror she experienced in Oahu, she never wanted to be someone’s prisoner again. She couldn’t be trapped in another closet, bleeding and starving and hoping. She would rather kill herself than to go through the trauma again. Yet, the idea of taking herself out made her think of Donovan. How could she do that to him? Leave him forever when she knew he’d do anything and everything to get her back?

Donovan would risk himself if it meant she’d live. She couldn’t let him do that.

She looked out the window as her body shook. No, she wouldn’t let Donovan risk himself for her. Nor would she let Viper torment her.

Streets blurred as the car raced out of the neighborhood, aiming for the main road. She thought about the lessons she’d taught her students. She had coached them on what to do if someone had a knife to their throat, grabbed their arm, and wrapped their arms around their middle. She had told them to run in a zigzag if someone was shooting at them and to look for a toggle switch, button, or wire to pull if they were ever put in a trunk. They could also kick out a taillight or push down the backseat to escape through the car. But not once did she ever tell them what to do if they were trapped inside a car with a gun pointed at them.

There was only one thing she could do.

Her eyes lowered to the buttons for the door and window. Her hands were gripping the handle, just inches from the lock; she doubted they had the sense to flip the child lock. She had one way out—the door her body was pressed into.

Viper probably thought she was too frightened of a loaded gun to attempt escaping. No, she didn’t want to get shot, but she was a self-defense instructor, damn it. Escaping was what she encouraged her students to do. “Do whatever you can to get free. If a man is sexually assaulting you, scratch him, bite him, pee on him. Do whatever you have to do to save your life.”

She also told them not to let fear hold them back. “Don’t let your fear paralyze you from trying. Even if he has a weapon, fight back. Look for your own weapon. Hit him and run.”

She had no weapon other than her own hands and feet, and she couldn’t pee on him, but she sure as hell had a way out. Even if he shot her, it was a risk she’d have to take—for Donovan. Everything she was doing from here on out, it wasn’t for her but for the man she loved. Running with a gunshot wound wasn’t impossible. All she could do was hope the bullet wouldn’t hit her in the back or strike a major organ or artery.

The car fishtailed around a corner, ignoring the stop sign, and pulled out in front of an oncoming car. A horn blared at them. She felt the car pick up speed, passing the legal speed limit.

Beth knew her neighborhood well. Just up the road was a red light, and the road was congested with after-work traffic. She could never pass that light before it turned red, and she doubted they would be able to accomplish the same, not even going over the speed limit.

She eyed the green light ahead. Her hands, slick with sweat, were flat against her stiff jeans. Her clothes had dried a while ago but were now rough against her skin. She dug her fingernails into the fabric, into her leg.

The light turned yellow then red. Cars ahead were stopping, but the car she was in didn’t slow. Her throat tightened. Would Viper’s man swerve into the other lane to pass the light?

Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brake, and she flew forward, hitting the back of the seat in front of her. She pushed off it and saw that Viper had also lost his balance. Before the car came to a full stop, she took the opportunity in front of her. In one movement, she flipped the lock and shoved open the door. Then she threw her body outside. Gravity seemed to hold her suspended in the air. But in the next heartbeat, her body punched the ground, taking the breath from her lungs and leaving her shocked. She came back to her senses as her body rolled over the grass. It was like a slap to the face to get her to breathe again. She gasped and sucked down as much oxygen as she could. When her body stopped bumping along the ground, she was lying on her back. She didn’t wait for a gunshot or a shout or squealing tires. She shot to her feet and bolted into the woods.

Her sneakers sank into piles of pine needles and got tangled in vines, but she yanked them free and made her way through the low branches that slapped her head. The pine trees grew thick, so close to each other the brush around them were knotted up in each other, making it difficult for her to pass. She wrestled her way through the tangled mess to the other side. She stumbled down a ditch, crossed the road in three strides, and dove into the woods across the way.

The sound of a car made its way to her through the trees and bushes. She stopped behind a tree and tried to figure out which way the car was headed, but she couldn’t pinpoint where it was. She peered around the tree she leaned against and checked over her shoulder, but she couldn’t see through the thickness of leaves.

She stepped around the tree and pushed on to the other side. She still had to cross a main road and pass two blocks before she would reach her neighborhood.

A few feet from the edge of the woods, she caught sight of the black car. She fell backward and landed on a pinecone. Biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out, she pried a crushed pinecone out from under her. Setting it aside, she peeked through the thick shrub hiding her from their eyes. The car cruised past and made a left turn; they were slowly heading back to her neighborhood. Well, she’d just have to follow them, out of their line of sight.

She hurried out of the woods and made her way to the stop sign. Hands clutching the metal post of the stop sign, she edged closer, peering left and right for the black car. There was no sign of the car, so she sprinted across the main road to the street on the other side. She cut across someone’s lawn to the other side of their house. Crawling on all fours, she snuck past windows to get to the back. Once there, she inched her head around the corner to see the road. She flinched back when the black car idled by, heading in the direction she needed to go. The moment it was gone, she started to dash across the dry grass to the woods.

She passed a birdbath and ducked under a bird house hanging low on a tree branch. At the halfway point, the sound of tires spinning on the asphalt pierced the air. Her feet became immobile. She was like a deer caught in headlights when the car reversed and screeched to a halt. The back window rolled down, and Viper leered at her. He pointed his gun through the opening. She uprooted her feet from the ground and took off as the gun popped.

The woods were only a few paces away, but it seemed much farther. As she leapt over a log, an ant pile in front of her exploded. She dodged the gray sand flying out in all directions and hurried into the woods. Instead of running straight through it, she made a right and followed the woods to the next house over. Running backyard to backyard, she managed to lose the black car, or at least she thought she did.

Breathless, she propped herself against a tool shed, her gaze ticked from left to right, on the lookout for Viper. After a few precious moments to catch her breath, she went on the run again. She stayed in the woods, hunkered behind a bush. Her ears strained for the sound of an engine until she was sure the coast was clear.

The smoke was getting thicker and stronger the closer she got to home. She had three more streets to cross. Three. Just three.

Glancing from side to side, she stepped out of the woods.

“There she is!”

She spun to see one of Viper’s men pointing at her. He had a gun in his hand and was running toward her. She twisted around. The second man was coming at her from the other end of the street. He, too, had a gun.

She didn’t debate what to do. Surrendering was not an option, because right there, three streets away from the action, was far enough for them to shoot her dead. She launched forward. Gunshots sounded. Her chest tightened. A spark lit at her feet from a bullet hitting the asphalt. She didn’t falter. She forced her legs to pump faster, faster than her heartrate. In seconds, she was in the woods, shredding bushes with her body. The men’s shouts and gunshots were behind her.

The only thought in her head was to escape. No prayers. No regrets. She just had the need to lose them and get to safety.

She paused behind a tree. Bark ripped off it on both sides, inches from her shoulders and hips. Flinching, she dropped to her knees and crawled as low to the ground as she could to the closest cover. When she reached a shield of palmetto bushes taller than her, she sprang to her feet and ran through the bushes with inch-long teeth. Getting cut up was a risk she’d have to take. Cuts were preferable to gunshot wounds.

The shouts and curses of the men trying to shove through the palmetto bushes echoed through the woods. She didn’t peek over her shoulder to see how close they were. Having run track, she knew that if runners peered over their shoulders at their competition, their pace slowed. She couldn’t afford to slow down. Not even a fraction.

Her legs pumped. Her lungs burned. She lifted her elbows above the tops of the bushes as she barrowed through them. The thorns tugged at her shirt and poked through her jeans. The sting of them slicing into her flesh made her wince, but she forced down the pain, though it brought tears to her eyes.

She stumbled out of the last bush onto asphalt and dashed across the street into another patch of woods. She couldn’t hear breaking branches behind her and took that for a good sign.

Florida’s vegetation was slowing down her pursuers. Viper, however, was nowhere in sight. That wasn’t a good sign.

She made it to the street in front of her house. Fire was burning half of the woods on the other side but had stopped at the dirt path the bulldozer had cleared. In the middle of the road, she peered over her shoulder. She couldn’t see the men yet, and she didn’t want to bring this danger straight to Donovan. Her searching eyes landed on the mountain of dirt, grass, bushes, and tree roots in the middle of the road. She hoped Florida’s vegetation would be on her side again as she climbed halfway up the pile. She sank onto her knees, heart pounding, and started to pull clumps of grass and palmetto branches over her body. Her gaze kept ticking toward the woods, afraid the men would emerge before she had a chance to completely conceal herself. Then she’d have nowhere to hide.

A moment after she draped the fronds of palmetto branch over her head, one of the men trampled through the vines onto the street. Seconds later, he was followed by his partner. They stomped to the middle of the road.

“Where’d da bitch go?”

They circled around, scanning the area for her. One of them faced the mountain where she hid. He raised his gun and popped off three bullets along the length of it. The final one came close to Beth. She could hear it rip through branches.

She held her body still, not wanting to give away her position. Her heart was thumping so violently she thought the nature covering her must be vibrating with every beat.

“Hey!”

The sound of Viper’s voice made Beth hold her breath. He sauntered out of the woods. While his friends appeared disheveled and pissed after chasing her, Viper looked cool and calm.

“Da bitch got away,” one of the men said.

“That’s fine,” Viper said. “She probably ran to her bitch ass husband. We’ll get ’er. We need to go back to the car, but we’ll come back.”

From beneath the vegetation, Beth watched the three of them walk down the street and into the smoke. Wanting to run back to Donovan right then, she restrained the urge to make sure they were really gone. Her arms stung from the scratches and itched from the feel of grass and branches rubbing against her skin. She tried not to think about bugs or ants, but the need to escape was unbearable. She clenched all her muscles to stop herself from itching and counted to thirty. When she finished her countdown and couldn’t see or hear anyone in the vicinity, she burst out of the branches and leapt off the pile.

Dirt fell off her in clumps. Pieces of grass were in her hair, and her clothing was stained, but she didn’t care. Now that she found her safety, she wanted Donovan.