Page 132 of Severed Rivalry
“I’ll get Ayla on them. Go.” He disconnects, and I run like my life depends on it.
… Because it does.
My truck smells like them. It has their water bottles and hair ties in the cupholders. It fuels my fear and galvanizes my resolve.
“What the fuck do I do?” I scream into the void and pound the steering wheel. I probably look insane. It’s not far off the mark.
“Call Liam,” I say to the truck as I turn across three lanes oftraffic onto Colfax, coming dangerously close to side-swiping a sports car.
“Yeah?” the sound of his engine revving blares in the background.
“What do I do?” I speed straight through a red light, watching the flash of a traffic camera clock my plate and give me a ticket.
“I’m getting to my computer as fast as I can.”
“I’m looking at the app. They’re northbound on C-470. I’m following until I can’t follow anymore.” I look at my gas gauge and regret that I don’t have a full tank.
“Did Ayla get Emma and Rosie?”
“Don’t know. I gave them the message and bailed. They’ll figure it out.”
“How far are you from home?”
“Way too damn far, brother.”
“Let’s eliminate. Who could it be?”
Who isn’t it?I think. “Could be her bosses or someone that works for them. Could be any one of the four hundred some that she got busted by the FBI. Could be Renée’s father or any of his cult members. Could be?—”
“Dad?” he cuts in.
“I won’t rule him out, but he’s my least concern right now. How would he know about Sariah and Renée?” I stop at a red light. If the intersection weren’t so congested, I’d blow through it. I watch the app and see the two dots still northbound on C-470, coming to the C-470 interchange with US 6 and I-70.
“Mom was at the hospital with Sariah for your surgery.”
Shit feels like ages ago. “True. Still my lowest suspect.” I merge onto C-470, gunning it as my truck masters the incline. This road is known for police, and the desire to catch up and the desire not to be slowed down war within me.
Texts pop up on the screen.
Ayla: No Rosie. No Emma. Had the management call for both over the loud speakers and turn all the house lights on for an emergency.
Ayla: It’s been nearly fifteen minutes. How long should we wait?
Christian: Ren is standing by. Fitz is too. Tell me what you need and it’s done.
I repeat it all to Liam who is still on the line as the dots leave 470 and four-leaf clover around and through the massive interchange, heading west on US 6.
“West on 6. What’s out there, Liam?”
“Nothing much. Mines.” He means the university. “Tourist shit. The river. And the long way to Lyons and Estes.”
“Hang a second.”
Me: Another ten at least. Don’t even know Emma’s mom to know who to call.
“Where does the river go, Li?”
“Don’t know. Not a great evacuation plan. No one makes an escape on an inner tube. I need five minutes and I’ll be home.”
