Page 93 of Killer Confections

“I’m fine, and Atlas and Dom are five minutes from us. I’m with Loxley and Thalia, and the South syndicate caught up to us.” She responds.

“Fucking Christ,” Connor curses as something slams in the background. “Everything is powered down. You come home to me, you hear? I’m not getting off the phone until Atlas intercepts you.”

Thalia scoffs as she pulls—a fucking gun—out of her bag. “And I can’t protect her? You’re all sexist pigs, you know?”

“I know you can protect her,” Connor says with so much intensity it nearly rattles the speakers. “But you have my whole world sitting in that car. I’m not getting off here until Iknowshe has multiple eyes on her.”

This would be super sweet if we weren’t about to die.

“The girls are in sight,” Atlas announces. “Closing in on the first truck. You’re doing great, Short Stack.”

I nod, forgetting he can’t see me. I’m deathly silent, worried that one wrong move could send us all straight to our deaths.

“Let’s kill two birds with one stone,” Thalia says. “Dom, are you on?”

“Hang on,” Atlas grunts before there’s a ringing sound, and another voice joins him on the call.

“What’s the move?” Dom asks.

Thalia turns, pressing her back to the console and planting her knees in the passenger seat. She rolls the window down, filling the cab with cycled harsh wind as she loads her gun and aims it behind us. “Keep two of them as close as possible. I can send one off the freeway and have it take another with it.”

“Aim to kill,” Dom instructs as I get two more flashes of light in my rear-view mirror. These are smaller and accompanied by the purring of a motorcycle’s engine. Relief washes over me, but I hold steady on my grip, listening for instructions.

He’s here.

Atlas is here.

“Never leave them alive,” Thalia smirks as she takes aim.

My eyes flicker to the mirror, giving me a good view as both bikes push to corral one truck towards another. They must startle the driver. The headlights swerve to the side, getting far too close to the other truck flanking it.

Thalia is precise and quick. I chance a look at her and there’s only a split second of her aiming before the gun fires, and my eyes squeeze shut at the loudcrack. I open them just in time to see as one vehicle swerves, and it’s obvious the driver is losing control as the nose of the truck slams into the driver side of the one next to it, sending them both into the guardrails in a tangled mess of metal and shrapnel.

I wince at the disaster behind us, knowing that no one could survive something like that. Not at the speed we’re traveling.

I glance down at the speedometer and take a deep breath.

If anything happens, we’re going to die. If the one remaining truck that’s been playing tag with our bumper pushes an inch closer, we’re going to face the same fate as the other two drivers.

My breathing becomes quicker—a lot more ragged—as I try to keep myself focused. My adrenaline is pumping and I can feel my body buzzing with an energy that sits just below my skin.

“Loxley,” Atlas’s gentle voice permeates my mind, pulling me back. “You’re doing amazing, baby. Just breathe.”

The bridge of my nose stings and I can feel my lips wobbling, but I swallow the emotion in my throat as I nod. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl. It’s almost over.”

“Get him off our asses,” Thalia commands as she plops back down into her seat and buckles her seat belt.

“Working on it,” Dom bites. “Loxley, I know you’re scared, but I need you to do something a little reckless.”

“Dominic,” Atlas warns, far harsher than he sounds when he speaks to me.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline or the fact that I have two women in the car with me that forces the confidence and clearheadedness I need at this moment. It’s like a flip switches and I realize Thalia and Alana’s lives are in my hands.

And I can’t stomach failing them.

“Tell me what to do,” my voice shakes, but my words are loud and clear in the car.