Page 44 of Ex-SEAL Bad Boy

Tucking it discreetly into his waistband, he closes the trunk, and we get in.

We pull out of the parking lot and take a right on the main highway out of town.

I look behind us and am temporarily relieved when I don’t see the car immediately following.

That relief is short-lived, however, when I see it in the distance, lying back but keeping us in sight.

“Mm, that’s what I was afraid of,” Ethan says, noticing the pursuers in our rearview mirror.

“What are they going to do,” I ask, the fear evident in my voice.

“I’m not sure, but I don’t want to find out,” he replies.

“I don’t understand. I thought you said we’re not in any immediate danger.”

“They’re probably wondering why we left town so quickly. Guys like Whitmore and Pierce, or my parents for that matter, they’re very suspicious people. If something is off, they go into damage control mode. The stakes are high.”

He drives along at a steady speed, apparently deep in thought.

I think about what he said to me that first night on the beach, about how you never want to indicate that you don’t have all the answers when you’re a leader.

I’m sure he’s coming up with those answers right now.

The countryside is becoming less and less populated. The houses and other buildings are farther apart, and that worries me.

I imagine that it would be unlikely for them to take action on a public highway like this. There isn’t much traffic, but a few cars are around—a few witnesses, but if they’re desperate ….

I can almost see the idea forming in Ethan’s mind as he drives, his expression changing occasionally.

Without warning, he suddenly turns off the highway, barely slowing down as he does so, tires chirping with the strain.

The car that is following us is far enough behind to be able to slow down before taking the turn.

The masks are off now. They know that we know they are following us.

We roar down the road, going more than ninety miles an hour as groves of thick forests zip by on both sides.

I’ve lost sight of our pursuers, but I know they’re back there.

“What are you doing?” I ask, worried that taking us off the main highway into a sparsely populated area might not be the best plan.

“These woods provide cover. Should just have time to set up an ambush.”

Ethan takes a surprise right down a gravel road.

What is he doing? He’ll surely kick up dust going this way. They’ll easily be able to follow.

The road seems to go on a long way before narrowing and ending in a dead end, a red and white striped barricade and yellow and black striped signs barring the way.

“Come on!” he shouts, leading the way into the woods.

The smell of dead and rotting vegetation assaults my nostrils as we move deeper into the trees. All I can do is follow his lead.

He stops and looks around before spotting a dry stream bed covered in tall grass and brush.

“There. Go down in there and keep quiet. I’ll draw them away.”

Seriously? That’s his plan?

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