Page 54 of 2nd Strike
I call Matt and alert him we’re no longer at the residence and give him the general direction we’re headed—to the highway. He tells me Taylor, as well as Grey and Tony, are all on the way and he’ll redirect them. In my gut, I know they won't get here in time to help us.
“We just have to stay with her until Taylor can catch up," I tell JJ.
"Jon is totally freaking out," Ethan says. They’re texting.
“Tell him to stay calm and make sure he has a seatbelt on. Ask him to keep us posted if he can about what’s going on. Did he say what Meg is doing?"
Ethan falls silent, and I know he's asking Jon. I glance over my shoulder. "Get your seatbelt on," I order.
He manages to complete his text and roll his eyes at the same time, before sliding back and following my instructions. “Jon says she’s talking to his mom. Does she really think she can run away and kidnap Jon again?"
That's exactly what she's trying to do. “Not if I can help it."
“She's not going anywhere," JJ reassures both of us with a tone I know well. "I alerted the local PD and gave them her plate number. Even if we lose her, she won't get far."
Susie blows through a red light and I suck in my breath. Thank God traffic is minimal. People are already at work, the kids at school. JJ slows, checks both directions, and since nothing’s coming, speeds up again.
We're losing ground though, and I'm grinding my teeth to keep from yelling at him to speed up. Car chases through suburban neighborhoods aren’t recommended, but if we let Susie get on the highway, my sister's life—as well as Jon’s—could be in even more danger.
24
Meg
What have I done?
I’m sitting in Susie’s car squeezing the handle like it’s a rope saving me from a rogue wave.
“Susie!” I yell. “For God’s sake, slow down before you kill us all.”
She’s just torn through a red light and narrowly missed being clipped by a truck. If it had been moving any faster, Jon and I would be toast.
Why I thought jumping in with this maniac was wise, I have no idea.
I’m also kidding myself. When would I ever let a young man—a teenager—be kidnapped without trying to help?
“Shut up.” Susie switches lanes, bullying in between two vehicles, pounding on her horn. “Get out of the way! Move it.”
“Mom!” Jon cries. “Please. Stop!”
I slide my phone out, ready to dial nine-one-one just as she zigs back. Momentum jerks it from my hand, sends it tumbling to the floorboard.
Dammit.
I lean left, but Suzie picks then to play slalom with three other cars and I’m rocked right, slamming my head against the closed window.
Forget the phone. I’m liable to wind up with a concussion or a cracked skull.
I straighten, looking for Charlie’s BMW. My sister must be cursing me right now. A lecture is sure to follow, but I can’t worry about that.
“Susie,” I say, closing my eyes again as the approaching light switches to amber. “Please, just pull over. Let Jon out. Keep me if you want, but he doesn’t deserve this.”
“He’s my son,” she says. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“You’re willing to let him die? That truck back there nearly crashed into us.”
I peek and see the light is now red.
Ohmygod.Anticipating the inevitable, I dip my head.Please, God, please.My body tenses, everything squeezed so tight my shoulders and neck cramp.
