Page 87 of Lone Star

“Nope.” Axelle shifted and changed lanes twice, passing another two cars.

“She’s a bit of a prodigy, I imagine,” Eden said.

Jinx groaned.

“I think this guy’s dying,” Gwen said, voice a trembling wreck. “There’s blood all over.”

“Shit,” Axelle sighed. “My seats.”

“He’s got a second gunshot,” Eden said. “Abdomen somewhere. He wouldn’t be losing this much blood from his calf.”

Michelle twisted around to look into the backseat, swearing softly. “Jinx?”

Axelle blew through a yellow light and checked the mirror again. The Mercedes was back there, still – far back, but in this kind of traffic, with stoplights every few thousand feet, there was a good chance they’d get hemmed in. And if that happened, and the cartel guys got out of their cars while they were trapped…

She shivered and passed another car.

The Mercedes ran the red behind them.

Her pulse accelerated. “Guys, I can outrun them if we get out in the open, but if we get jammed up in traffic…”

“Right,” Eden said, grimly. “Michelle, do you need another magazine?”

“No, I’ve got one.”

“Wait – what happens if there’s traffic?” Gwen asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Eden said.

But there they were ahead of them: brake lights. Cars stacked up, with no gaps, blocking the turn lanes.

Shit, Axelle thought, and passed another car. If she could get into the oncoming lanes, she could bull her way through. But for now, she had to touch the brakes, had to slow.

“There’s a gap in the median up there,” Michelle said.

“I see it.” But there was a bus trundling in front of it, blocking it, and the light ahead was red, andoh, shit…

Sunlight winked off chrome in the oncoming lane, and there were the bikes.

Once upon a time, the sight of Lean Dogs riding in formation toward her would have elicited a flight response, part fear and part loathing. But right now, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

“It’s Albie,” Michelle said beside her, and let out an explosive breath.

Axelle’s hand spasmed on the gearshift, tremors moving up her arm and hitting her core in a shockwave of spent adrenaline. She loved driving – lovedout-driving others – but now that salvation was in sight, she could allow herself to feel the terror she’d been keeping at bay.Thank God, thank God.

The gap between the bus and the median break was too narrow for a car, but the bikes swooped through it, one-by-one, earning honks and fingers from other drivers. They ignored them, riding down the center lines, turning and then falling in on either side of the GTO, flanking it like an honor guard so that by the time they’d halted at the light, they were all boxed in by rumbling Harleys.

Albie pulled up right outside the driver window and pushed his sunglasses down his nose so he could peer through the glass at her – a move that was all about practicality, but which sent a wild thrill through her all the same.

Axelle rolled down the window. “You have good timing.”

“You guys okay?” His eyes were so blue in the sunlight, his jaw tight, his body more than at home on the bike.

“Everybody but Jinx.”

“He’s been shot,” Michelle said, leaning across the console to get closer. “In at least two places.”

“And we’ve got the cartel on our ass,” Axelle said. “That Mercedes one light back.”

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