Page 46 of Fight for You
“Not stolen!” I barked.Drat. I’d already compressed my anger; no need to launch back to 100. Still, I disapproved of people who evaded rules. Especially those in certain positions. I shouted out my license plate number and apologized for only knowing the last five of my VIN.
As Brown turned to order the officer closest to their vehicle to confirm what I’d just said, Walsh tried to pull away.
“Brown doesn’t outrank me,” Walsh spat. “Someone shoot this maniac.”
I gave his arm another squeeze. “Tell them! You lied about my car being stolen.” I looped an arm around his neck. “Aleksandr Chelomey told you to screw me over, huh?”
A questioning look passed over Walsh’s face as Brown lifted a hand. “Okay, okay. Let’s scale back.”
“No,” I said. “Tell your fellow officers who you work for, Walsh!”
Walsh freed his elbow. When it flew forward for momentum, I shoved him away from me and toward Brown. The men went stumbling into each other.
Two seconds of chaos. Enough.
I expected to hear the crackle of gunfire, but clearly, that snake, Walsh, didn’t want to break protocol while his peers looked on. Police could only shoot a fleeing suspect who posed an immediate threat. I prayed Brown drilled it into the others that I wasn’t a threat at all as I sprinted back to my truck. I reached down to grab the keys and closed myself in the vehicle.
Tears streamed down Jordyn’s face. “I thought they’d hur-hurt you.”
“I know, JorJor, I’m fine.” The Gladiator roared to life, the wheel rumbling beneath my palms. The engine gave a deep growl as I gunned the gas pedal. I slammed the truck over a shopping cart and tore past an abandoned hatchback. Sirens screamed behind me. All units tried to keep up after returning to their vehicles. I twisted into a U-turn on the wide boulevard. The Gladiator leaped over the center divider, tires screaming as they hit asphalt.
18
LOS ANGELES
Jordyn
Days free: 151
The truck’slifted suspension bounced over the center divider. Jamie’s vibrant energy in this moment boosted my confidence, a stark contrast to the doubt I felt when the police accused him of stealing his car.
“What are we gonna do?” I asked.
“Try to get somewhere safe before they get eyes in the sky. Then figure out how Chelomey had the connection to have my vehicle flagged as stolen. I promise we’ll sort out this mess.” He reached over and squeezed my hand, muttering, “Along with everything else.”
Two LAPD cruisers boxed us in tight, sirens whooping. The sun burned over Los Angeles, casting everything in molten gold.
Jamie ripped through the streets, cut through alleys, and blew through a stop sign. “There goes my impeccable driving record,” he growled.
I curled low and shielded my head, adrenaline pouring off me. “Jamie.”
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll shake them in a second.” The truck shuttered, eating potholes.
I lifted my head just enough to peek out the window. Jamie was navigating through an industrial zone. Abandoned warehouses and chain-linked fences whizzed by.
As I looked toward the back, poor Rebel shielded her eyes with her paws.
Jamie smashed through a chain-link fence, tires shrieking.
My wide eyes ate up the scene as the truck flew downward and into a concrete channel. We weren’t on the streets of Los Angeles anymore. A small current flowed within the concrete basin’s center: a man-made stream or a desert creek in the summer and a real river in the winter. “Is this the Los Angeles River?”
“Yeah,” Jamie replied as the Gladiator darted beneath a street bridge, graffiti everywhere. “How’d you know?”
“I watched a lot of action movies.” For some reason, I thought of how the LA River ran through a concrete channel for over fifty miles and how it served as the backdrop for the CGI movies that were the only constant in my life. “I should note that they were all cheesy and super Hollywood.”
Behind us, the large tires kicked up mists of water from the stream. While the cruisers backed out, the SUV smoothed down the path.
“That’s why you finally agreed toDie Hardinstead ofPretty Woman.” Jamie flashed me a grin, then returned his focus to navigating a way out of the cement structure. “You love action movies. So, I didn’t have to set the table for dinner to get you to agree to watchDie Hard?”
