Page 43 of Stars and Scars

His phone rings. Grayson snatches it up and stares at the screen before he answers.

“What’s up, Jax? A little busy at the moment.”

The volume on his phone is high enough that I can clearly hear Jax’s reply.

“Harlowe told me you’re being followed.”

“Yeah, does she have any hits on the license plate yet?”

Jax makes a low growl in his throat.

“She’s working on it, but I wanted to talk to you right away. Listen, don’t do anything heroic like trying to lose the tail or running them off the road, all right?”

Grayson’s lips twitch. “Jax, I taught the damn defensive driving course at Quantico for a year. I know how to lose a tail, safely.”

“This ain’t the CIA, this is Platinum Security,” Jax growls. “Harlowe can track you by your cell phone, she just needs time. I’ll send you back up as soon as possible. Do you have a full tank of gas?”

Grayson checks. “Little over half.”

“Then just lead our friends on a long, slow ride along the coast until you reach the nearest police station. You hear me?”

“They could make their move a long time before that, Jax. Every second that they’re on our tail, the danger gets worse and worse. I already subtly increased speed three times and they've sped up to match without fail.”

“Damn it, Grayson, wait for backup–”

Grayson shuts the phone off and opens the center console. He deposits the phone within and snaps it closed.

“Secure anything that isn’t nailed down.”

I gasp. “Grayson, my streaming gear is in the back.”

“I strapped it down with a half dozen bungee cords. It’s not going anywhere.”

I grab the armrest and squeeze until my hand cramps.

“Jax said to wait for backup.”

“Jax isn’t here. Brace yourself.”

“What?”

Grayson throws the wheel hard to the left. I scream as the jeep careens madly onto a side road. The wheels on my side of the jeep come up a good two feet from the pavement before we bounce back down hard enough to make my bones rattle.

Grayson floors it, muscles in his arm dancing as he slams the Jeep into a higher gear. Behind us, I hear the screech of rubber and the whine of metal on metal as the pursuing car struggles to make the same, sudden turn.

I catch a glimpse of a black SUV before we tear around a bend in the road. Grayson is all business, working the steering wheel and gear shifter like a rally racing champion. I bite my tongue as we hit a deep dip in the road. For a moment I think we’re going to bounce right down the steep embankment on either side of the path, but Grayson regains control.

“Ow,” I say, poking my finger in my mouth to see if there’s blood.

“Are you okay?”

“Bit my tongue.”

A pair of headlights flash into existence behind us. The black SUV is catching up to us much faster than I would have thought. Grayson throws the Jeep into top gear, but the headlights behind us steadily gain ground.

“Can’t you go any faster?”

Grayson speaks through gritted teeth.

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