Page 50 of Tactical Revival

Fear rips me apart. “I’m coming. Don’t move. Can you send me your location? I only have the one on your phone.”

“I can. But the battery is about to die. So I’ll send it to you then stay here so you can find me.”

“Okay. Please stay where you are. Keep away from the road.” I push out of the booth.

“What is it?” Reyna demands.

“Matty snuck out and his friends left him. He’s out by himself.”

“Then come on, let’s go get him.” She stands.

“No, it’s okay. I can do it.”

“Margot, let me drive you.” Reyna takes her purse. “Can we settle our bills later?” she asks Lilly.

“Of course. Don’t even worry about it. Let me know if you guys need anything, okay?”

“Okay.” I can’t even think straight as I follow Reyna out to her car and climb into the passenger side. How could he sneak out like this? I thought we were past this. I thought things were finally better.

“Are you okay, momma?”

“No. I’m worried about him.”

“We’ll get to him. Where is he?”

I tap on the pin he sent through a text, then pull up the map and breathe a sigh of relief. “Just outside of town. Looks like ten minutes.”

“See?” Reyna smiles. “We’ll get him. Then you can be wringing his neck in twenty minutes for leaving in the first place.”

We pull onto the main street and start driving while Reyna does her best to distract me, just like she did when we were teenagers. She talks about her school, asks me about the B&B, tells me about how she and my brother are talking about starting their family and then—headlights blind me and Reyna swerves.

“Hang on!” she screams as she jerks the wheel.

We go off the road, hitting a ditch, and my stomach lurches as we flip, landing down a hill upside down. My head slams into the window, and I scream.

The car stops moving, and everything is dead silent.

“Reyna?” I choke out.

She doesn’t answer.

“Reyna!” I scream and struggle with my seat belt. It comes loose, and I fall to the roof of the car, landing on broken glass from what was left of the sunroof. I hiss through clenched teeth but try to crawl over to check her pulse.

Someone grabs my ankle.

I scream again.

They rip me back, and glass bites into my hands.

Scrambling for something—anything—I can use as a weapon, my hand closes around the handle of a glass break tool that fell from whatever cubby Reyna had been storing it in. They release my ankle just as I turn, swinging as hard as I can.

But there’s no one there.

Headlights come to a stop behind me.

“Reyna!” Michael yells.

“In here!” I call out, hope flooding me.

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