Page 23 of Keeping Astrid

“Yep. Hang on.” His words were clipped, but there was no mistaking the command in them.

Why is this happening?

“Shall I call 9-1-1?” Why did she ask that? As if calling the police would help. What could they do? By the time they got through the traffic snarl to where they were currently, things could be completely different.

But she couldn’t just do nothing. She checked the mirror again—the car was still there.

“Call Alliez. Put the phone on speaker.” Growler veered back into another lane. An exit was approaching—would he take that one?

Whatever he did, Astrid knew he would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe.

“What’s their number?” she asked as she pulled her phone out, her hands shaking. The buzz of adrenaline spiked, and all she wanted to do was get out of the car.

But she couldn’t.

Growler rattled off a number, and Astrid dialed and hit the speaker button when the phone began to ring.

“Good Morn?—”

“Yolanda, I need Cass now,” Growler yelled as he took the exit at a pace that was bordering on out of control.

“Got it.”

Astrid was impressed that Yolanda didn’t even question him. Nor did she sound annoyed that Growler had cut her off.

“Dammit, that didn’t work,” he muttered as turned the car sharply around a corner, causing Astrid to fall into the window, slamming her shoulder against the glass. She grimaced, but didn’t make a sound.

“What do you need, Callum?” Cass’s voice filled the car.

“Check license plate 4XPT291. Silver Ford. Maybe a Fusion.”

Through the speaker, Astrid picked up the tap tap of keyboard strokes. They were now traveling in an area she wasn’t familiar with. Did Growler know where they were? How to get to the studio if they were able to shake off the car following them?

Did all of that matter? How had her life got turned upside down so quick? Two weeks ago, she was blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked and showed up when you least expected it.

Fear had a stranglehold on her now. Her whole body was warm, and pinpricks of sweat coated her palms.

“Car was stolen two nights ago according to the police report filed by the owner,” Cass said. “I’ll let the authorities know the vehicle has been sighted. Hopefully, that will help you out.”

“Thanks. Call the studio. Astrid’s going to be late.”

Astrid gaped, welcoming the flare of anger. It was better than fear. Did he think she was incapable of making a simple call when she’d dialed the number for Alliez? “I do know how to make a call, you know.”

Growler glanced at her. “I know, but I want to keep Cass on the line.”

Cass’s chuckle sounded through the phone’s speaker, and Astrid gripped it a bit tighter. Great. Her humiliation could be heard by goodness knows who. “On it. And Astrid, don’t let Callum boss you around. Keep standing up for yourself.”

Glass shattered, followed by ping of something hitting the back of the car. Astrid yelped and instinctively ducked down in her chair.

They were being shot at now. How could this get any worse? Fear swallowed the short burst of anger. She wanted the anger back.

“Fuck. Shots fired. Where are the fucking cops?” Growler yelled, and the car veered to the left. Astrid yanked her seatbelt tight, the material almost cutting her in half, but she didn’t care. If they were going to crash, then she was going to do everything possible to keep herself safe.

Another ping hit the car, causing Astrid to fumble with the phone, nearly dropping it. Beneath the screeching of tires as they bounded around another corner, she caught the faint sound of a siren.

“They’re nearby,” Cass shouted.

“Yep, hear them,” Growler responded. “Perp can too. He’s pulling back. Fucking coward. Turned down a side street.”

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