Page 73 of Crown of Lies

But before Remy can react, one of the SUVs slams into our side. The impact is jarring, sending us spinning. Remy fights for control, but it’s no use.

We’re forced off the road, tires screeching as we hit the shoulder. The world turns upside down as the car begins to roll.

22

QUINN

The world becomesa violent blur as our car flips. I’m thrown against the seat belt, my body jerking in every direction. The roar of metal scraping gravel fills my ears as we roll once, twice, three times. It’s like being trapped in the world’s most vicious washing machine.

Glass shatters around us, raining down in a deadly shower. I instinctively cover my head, feeling sharp pricks as fragments slice my arms. The car continues its brutal tumble, and I lose all sense of up or down.

My stomach lurches with each rotation. I catch glimpses of sky, then road, then sky again as we spin. The seat belt digs painfully into my chest, barely keeping me in place as gravity seems to shift wildly.

Finally, with a sickening crunch, we come to a stop. My head snaps forward, connecting with something hard. Pain explodes behind my eyes and a high-pitched ringing fills my ears. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but everything’s fuzzy and distorted.

I’m disoriented and my head is throbbing as I try to make sense of my surroundings. The world is still spinning, and I taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. It takes a few secondsfor me to realize that part of my brain fog is actual smoke that’s filling the air. I cough, struggling to take in a full breath.

Fuck.

“Remy?” I reach over to where he’s slumped over the steering wheel. I can see blood on his face and he isn’t moving, even after a gentle shake. “Remy, can you hear me? We have to get out of here.”

Nothing.

I try to turn my head and check on the guys in the back seat, but I’m too restricted by the seat belt, the wreckage, and the fact that every muscle in my body is screaming in pain.

There’s movement outside the mangled wreck of our car. Muffled voices, then shouting. Footsteps crunching on broken glass. I blink hard, willing my vision to clear.

There’s no way an ambulance or even a patrol car has found us this quickly. The voices have to be coming from the bastards who ran us off the road.

I fumble for my sidearm, but my fingers are clumsy and uncooperative. I struggle against my jammed seat belt, hoping my desperation will give me the strength I need to get out of here.

The passenger door is wrenched open. Cold air rushes in, clearing some of the smoke, and I finally manage to free myself from the seat belt as my hand closes around the grip of my gun.

Before I can raise it, something cold and hard presses against my temple. The unmistakable feel of a gun barrel.

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart,” a gruff voice warns.

I freeze, my fingers still wrapped around my weapon. The man leans in closer until I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. “That’s right. Nice and easy. Let go of the gun.”

Slowly, reluctantly, I release my grip. The gun clatters to the floor of the car. I raise my hands, palms out, showing I’m unarmed.

“Smart move,” the man says. “Now, let’s get you out of there.”

I’m yanked from the wreckage, my body protesting every movement. Rough hands grab my arms, dragging me across broken glass and twisted metal. My legs barely work, and I stumble, nearly falling.

“Watch it,” a voice snarls. “We need her in one piece.”

Before I can process what’s happening, a thick fabric bag is shoved over my head. The world goes dark, and I gasp, struggling to breathe through the heavy material.

“Stop squirming,” another voice orders. I feel something tighten around my wrists—zip ties, probably. The plastic bites into my skin as they’re cinched tight.

I’m shoved forward, tripping over my own unsteady feet. I’m trying to ignore the pain and listen for clues, details, anything that might be useful. So far, all I know is that I’m being half-dragged, half-carried across uneven ground. I can hear the crunch of gravel underfoot, but that only tells me we’ve made it back to the side of the road.

I was too lost in my own thoughts before the wreck to know for sure how far outside of town we are, and I sure as hell wasn’t paying attention to the dark side roads once these fuckers started trying to run us off the road.

“Get her in the car,” someone barks. A third voice? I’m pretty sure they’ve all sounded different, but my head is throbbing and I honestly can’t be certain.

Hands push me down, forcing me into what must be another vehicle. A few seconds later, I hear car doors slamming and the rumble of an engine starting up.

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