Page 108 of The Underboss's Secret Twins
I glance ahead—and spot it.
A narrow, unmarked road branching off from the highway, vanishing into a dense stretch of forest. No lights. No traffic. Nothing but darkness and trees.
An escape.
"Take that road!" I shout, pointing ahead.
The driver hesitates for a fraction of a second, his eyes darting between the main road and the path leading into the unknown. Then, with a curse, he wrenches the wheel.
The car swerves violently, the back tires fishtailing as we veer off the asphalt and onto the dirt road. The sudden shift throws me against the seat, my heart hammering as we plunge into the forest.
Branches lash at the sides of the car, scraping against the windows like clawed fingers. The road is rough, uneven, barely more than a worn trail winding between towering trees. The headlights slice through the darkness in broken flashes, illuminating patches of thick underbrush, gnarled roots, and the eerie emptiness beyond.
But we’re gaining distance.
I twist in my seat, my breath hitching as I watch the SUV hesitate at the turn. It’s heavier, bulkier—less suited for the unstable terrain. For a moment, just a moment, I think we might actually pull ahead.
Then it follows.
Its headlights reappear in the rearview mirror, bouncing wildly as it barrels over the uneven ground, relentless.
"They’re still coming," I whisper, dread curling deep in my stomach.
The driver grits his teeth. "They won’t be able to keep up. Not on this terrain."
I want to believe him.
The road narrows further, forcing the driver to slow. The tires churn through the mud, struggling for traction as the car bucks beneath us. Every jolt rattles my bones, the impact vibrating through my seatbelt.
The forest thickens. The canopy overhead smothers what little light remains, plunging us into near-total darkness. Mypulse quickens as I strain to see ahead, my body tense, bracing for what I can’t predict.
"We need to?—"
A sickening jolt.
The car lurches violently, the front end dipping forward as something massive slams beneath us.
A rock.
A loudcrackechoes through the night. The steering wheel wrenches from the driver’s hands, the car spinning sideways.
"Shit, hold on!"
I barely have time to react before we hit something—hard.
The impact slams me forward. My skull cracks against the window, a blinding flash of white bursting behind my eyes. Pain explodes through my ribs, my body snapping against the seatbelt like a ragdoll.
For a breathless second, the world tips sideways.
Then everything goes black.
What could be hours or minutes later, a sharp, piercing pain pulls me back to consciousness.
I groan, my eyelids fluttering as I struggle to open them. My head is throbbing, my entire body screaming in protest. A thick, coppery taste lingers on my tongue. Blood.
Darkness surrounds me. The car is still. The shattered windshield gapes open to the night, the jagged edges of broken glass catching faint slivers of moonlight. The air inside is thick with the acrid scent of gasoline and scorched rubber.
I try to move. Pain lances through my side, sharp and unforgiving. My seatbelt is locked tight across my chest, pinning me down. I fight against it, my fingers clumsy, my limbs weak.
