Page 63 of Guarding Grace
I settled back in my seat and didn’t see anything except the door handle to hold on to. A few seconds later, with a set jaw, Terry made another turn and then floored the accelerator. A scream lodged in my throat as the engine roared and I was thrown back against the seat. This car was part rocket.
He checked the mirror again, cool as could be. “It’s definitely a tail.” He stabbed the dash, and a call connected.
“Hawk.” It was Lucas’s voice again.
“We picked up a tail leaving Grace’s work. Red Maserati.”
“Jordy will track you. I’m on the way.” Lucas sounded like he was running. “Winston is to your south. Evade that direction.”
The call disconnected as fear churned in my belly and we raced past parked cars and buildings. We were moving much faster than I considered safe. I braced my feet and gripped the door handle.
Terry took another turn fast and floored the car down a wide street, weaving through traffic before turning onto a side street. I hung on to the door handle as we screeched around the corner and came within inches of a parked truck. I’d never written a will.
As Terry cranked the car into another turn, I was thrown against the door. The tires screeched, but held. The red car was still behind us.
Terry looked completely at ease, stabbing the brake, whipping the wheel around, and then jamming down the accelerator.
My stomach revolted each time we rocketed out of a turn like a bat out of hell.
“Bad news,” he intoned.
“What?” It came out as a squeak.
“Only a few cars can keep up with us. He’s got one of them.”
I flinched at the sound of glass shattering.
“Get down,” Terry ordered. “They’re shooting.”
With my heart lodged in my throat, I leaned down. Another bullet hit the rear glass, and then another.
“Glove box. Get my gun,” Terry ordered.
As he took another corner, I pulled the Sig Sauer out, checked the clip, and racked the slide to load the first round in the chamber the way Pete had taught me. Then I undid my seatbelt, lowered the window, and swiveled out the side.
“What the hell?” Terry bellowed. “Stay down.”
“Fuck that,” I yelled angrily. I got off three rounds at the pursuing car before Terry yanked me back inside.
“Give me the gun,” he yelled, then stretched out his hand. “You fucking do what I say, when I say.”
“Stop yelling at me,” I screamed. I gave the SIG over, then fastened my seatbelt again and raised the window as he accelerated down the narrow street.
“That was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”
I shrank in my seat as he took the next corner at the same insane speed as the last.
“Damned stupidest,” he repeated.
“Watch out,” I screamed as a person emerged from between cars.
Terry hit the brakes hard and cranked the wheel.
We missed the man, but the car spun and skidded backward, hitting a parked car with a gigantic crunch of metal on metal.
The impact threw me into the seat. The side airbag went off next to my head, and all I could think was that we were helpless now against whoever was shooting at us.
Terry leapt out of his door.Bang, bang.
