Page 60 of Call Back

The sound of a revving engine—a car, moving fast—filtered to us from the front of the industrial park.

“I’m not shitting, Magnolia.” His voice rose in pitch. “Come on!”

“I’m not either!” I said in a panic. “My pants leg is caught on a wire.”

“Dammit!” Colt disappeared, the door shutting.

“You’re leaving me?” I cried out in disbelief, my pants no closer to being free. I was about to start crawling back under the truck to hide when Colt burst through the door, running for the semi with something in his hand.

He dove under the truck with me as headlight beams lit up the alley from the opposite end.

“Fuck!” Colt spat out as he held up a pocket knife. “He figured out the gold wasn’t there.”

The sight of Colt brandishing a knife and pointing it in my direction caught me off guard. I shrank back into the wheel well.

He gave me a look of disbelief, but didn’t comment as he sliced through the fabric and cut me free.

Now was not the time to fall apart.

The sound of screeching tires filled the air, and suddenly the headlights were illuminating the area under the trailer. The car was headed toward us.

I pulled myself together as Colt practically threw himself on top of me, shoving me into the wheel well. “Did they see us?” I asked in panic.

“We’re about to find out,” was his tight reply.

The car came to a skidding halt, and seconds later a male voice shouted, “Come on out, Austin!”

“He knows who you are?” I whispered.

“Of course he knows who I am,” Colt said in disgust, then his voice softened. “I don’t think he knows you’re here. Stay hidden and let me deal with this.”

“No!” I whispered-shouted. “He’ll kill you.”

“No. He wants the gold, and he doesn’t think you know where it is.”

“I don’t know where it is.”

“Exactly. That makes you expendable. He thinks I’m the only one who does know, and he’ll never get it if I’m dead. So trust me on this.”

I grabbed his sleeve in a tight grip and twisted to look up into his face. “No! Colt, please don’t do this.”

“I’m tired of waiting, Austin,” the voice shouted over the rain. “And I know you’re under the trailer, so come out before I start shooting!”

I strained to hear the voice better, trying to figure out if I recognized it, but there was so much noise interference—the rain, the windshield wipers, my frantic heartbeat—it was hard to tell. Besides, if it was Owen, I’d never heard him shout like this before.

“Maggie,” Colt said, sounding frantic as he tugged at my hand. “Let go. He’s going to kill you.”

“He’s going to kill you too,” I said in a tearful voice.

“No. He won’t,” he whispered. “Just trust me, okay? Now listen. If I say go, run for the door I just came out of. Got it?”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll follow.” Then he broke free of my grip and shouted, “I’m coming. Don’t shoot!”

I started to cry. I couldn’t let him get killed because of me. “Don’t do it.”

Colt cupped my cheek and searched my face. His own face was shrouded in shadows. “Mags. I’ve got this. Promise me you’ll stay hidden unless I yell go.”

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