Page 72 of The Chase

Bam.

She turned back to look out of the empty space where the rear window used to be. The biker sprawled in front of a car, lying still on the ground.

“Three down,” April said for him. He threw her a look this time. She returned it, determination in her eyes. He saw it, turned back to the road and stepped on the gas.

They just had the black Ford van bearing down on them now. Colt did a U- turn. “Colt! Colt!” April screamed. Colors flashed by in the window. Shapes. She didn’t see anything else. Tires screeched. Gunshots cracked outside the car. April ducked automatically.

Colt frowned and hammered the gas, doubling back down the road they’d just come from.

April blinked and looked out. She recognized the street. “The clubhouse-”

“Yeah. Seat belt tight, yes?” Colt spat out.

She checked hers. “Yes.”

He nodded grimly. “Hold on.”

April gripped the seat until her fingers felt like they’d never open again. The car streaked like a bat out of hell toward the clubhouse. The gate was open.

He didn’t slow. The gate slowly began to close. The iron railings, forcing the gap closer.

“The gate!” April yelled unhelpfully. She knew he’d seen it.

Colt had his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror, the black van behind them. It began slowing. A little jerk left, the driver over-correcting right, then left again.

Colt took his eyes off the back now, his mind made up. He set his sights on the gate, the gap into the MC compound getting smaller and smaller. He angled the car straight at it and floored it. The car lurched forward.

He didn’t slow. He didn’t stop. The car hit the curb, much faster than intended.

The gap looked too small. Colt didn’t slow.

April closed her eyes.

The car dragged against the gate. Metal scraped, but they made it through.

April opened her eyes, a victory whoop quickly silenced. Colt still didn’t slow. They bulleted into the parking area. April blanched, she saw his plan.

There was a loud crunch from behind. Guess the black van didn’t make it, April thought.

But she didn’t turn to look. Her eyes were dead ahead. Because they were still hurtling forward. Unstoppable, plummeting onwards. Straight toward the clubhouse. Toward the wall.

April took a breath.

Bam.

Colt had been ready for the impact. That punch to the face from the airbag hadn’t surprised him. April had said she wanted to take the fight to their door. He’d literally done that.

He knew this section of wall was old, he knew with impact it would all come down. Anyone left inside would be history. What he had been surprised by was the noise. It was an almighty crash. Metal, glass, wood. Then the dust. He hadn’t anticipated them being covered in a blanket of white insulation dust. It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Coughing. His ears were muffled, the crunch of metal still ringing in his ear. But over that, he heard coughing. He turned to look beside him. April.

Thank fuck the airbag had deployed. She had a graze on her forehead. Her eyes were wide. Wild. But she was fine. They were fine. She was fine.

Colt spluttered, too, now, the dust in his mouth. His throat.

“Gotta get out,” Colt wheezed.

April nodded. His voice still sounded far away to him. Had April heard? He began to fumble for the door handle but realized he’d never get the door open, building debris piled high.

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