Page 61 of The Wrecked One

“Steve isn’t with them,” Mason quickly said. “His mother and sister were taken hostage. If he didn’t give up your location and our safe house in Maine, they would’ve been killed.” He paused to let that sink in. “He’s already left Canada and is en route to try and rescue his family before they take them out in Detroit. I don’t like what he did, but?—”

“He had no choice,” I finished for him, trying to keep my emotions in check. Spinning out of control wouldn’t help us, and that wasn’t who I was at my core anyway. So, not today, Satan, not today.

“Where are Teddy and Easton now?” Oliver beat me to the question.

“Steve knocked them out at their hotel with some type of gas so they couldn’t stop him from taking off on what I assume will be a death mission trying to rescue his mother and sister, especially since he didn’t kill the crew like he was ordered to do.” Mason sounded as though he was on the move himself as he continued to fill us in. “We don’t know how they even got to Steve, but one problem at a time. Teddy and Easton are on their way to you, but it looks like you got Gwen’s message and killed the tracker.”

“Which means they can’t find us now, either,” I whispered, glancing back at the SUV gaining ground.

Oliver yanked the wheel hard to the right and we left the woods, flying onto an actual road this time.

“I have a plan.” With his free hand, Oliver gestured for the phone. “I’m going to text you a location. Have the guys go there instead as backup.” He pin-dropped a place to Mason before handing the phone back to me. “We’ll be in touch. I need to make a call, though.”

“Be safe. Don’t let anything happen to her. Promise me,” Mason said, choking up on those last two words.

Oliver met my eyes for a brief moment before looking back at the road and gritting out, “I promise.”

“Talk soon. Stay safe,” I told Mason after he ordered me to get rid of the phone as well.

I chucked it out the window and asked Oliver, “You think these guys just got in town? Why not grab us from the cabin or at the lake?”

“They either figured out they’d get blown to fucking pieces crossing my old man’s property, or yeah, they just got in. Probably didn’t take us from the lake since the parking lot was full. They didn’t want to risk witnesses. They want this to look like a car accident during the storm.”

The Collective’s favorite MO for killing people. “Accidental” deaths that couldn’t be traced to them. Of course.

He let go of the gun to dig into his pocket, then handed me his phone. “Call the only saved number on the phone for me. It’s my dad’s.”

The line connected two rings later, and I held the phone out between us so Oliver could concentrate on driving.

“Dad, we need to exfil now. Our location’s blown,” Oliver cut to it. “A gray Suburb—” He let go of his words as he slammed on the brakes.

I flew forward at the quick halt, and Oliver flung his arm out to stop me from smacking my face into the dashboard, just in case the seat belt didn’t do its job.

“Oliver, what’s going on?” his dad barked out.

It took me a moment to realize why he’d stopped. Another SUV was facing us, headlights on. Gunning our way to box us in.

Oliver threw the truck into reverse and drove backward fast. Using the heel of his hand, he spun the wheel, changing directions while warning, “Hang on.”

I grabbed the side handle near the ceiling with my free hand as he raced us a new way, now with both vehicles on our ass.

“What’s happening?” his dad asked again. I’d forgotten he was on the line.

“We have two vehicles pursuing us. They’re not firing. Not yet. I think they want our deaths to look like an accident, which gives us a chance to get out of here,” Oliver told him. “Meet me at our spot in ten. Two guys we trust will be arriving for backup so we can make a clean exit.”

Oliver stopped abruptly, threw us in reverse again, then maneuvered backward right between the two SUVs before spinning us around face forward. What in the hell was that?

“Meet you there. Be safe,” his dad said before the call ended.

“What spot? Where are we going?” I asked, looking back to see the SUVs farther away now but still coming for us.

This could not be Thailand 2.0. We couldn’t be taken again.

“Dad has a Cessna.”

“A Cessna.” I loosened my hold of the handle and let go of the phone, pinning it between my legs.

“A plane.”

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