Page 20 of Unhinged

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

brYDGETT

A heavy weight settles on my chest as I shove my bag into the passenger seat, barely noticing how it slumps halfway off. My hands shake, fingers fumbling with the seatbelt as Judge climbs into the back.

“Buckle up,” I say, my voice tighter than I want it to be.

The click of his seatbelt barely registers over the thunderous pounding in my chest. I jam the key into the ignition, twist hard, and slam my foot on the gas.

Gravel spits out from under the tires as I tear down Ike’s driveway.

My knuckles ache from how tightly I grip the wheel, my heart racing faster than the speedometer’s needle as it climbs.

I just need to get us out of here. Away from Ridgeville. Away from him .

The afternoon sun glares down, baking the pavement and shimmering off the hood of my car. Even with the A/C on, sweat clings to the back of my neck, and my shirt sticks uncomfortably to my skin. Judge sits quietly in the backseat, his gaze flicking between his lap and the view outside the window.

“We just need to get out of Ridgeville,” I murmur, half to him, half to myself. “We’re almost clear.”

The houses get farther apart, replaced by sprawling fields and patches of dense trees. The golden light makes everything feel too bright, too exposed—like there’s nowhere to hide.

I glance in the rearview mirror for what feels like the hundredth time—nothing but empty road behind us.

“You okay back there?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Judge says, but he doesn’t sound sure. “Where are we going?”

“Just… away.” I try to smile, but my face feels tight, stretched too thin. “Start thinking of places you wanna visit.”

Judge nods, but his fingers keep tugging at the hem of his shirt—a nervous habit.

Minutes drag by, and still, there’s nothing behind us. My chest loosens a little, the tension easing just enough for me to breathe. I can almost believe we’re in the clear.

But as we approach the four-way stop near the “Welcome to Ridgeville” sign, I see it.

The silver Yukon sits at the stop sign to my left, its chrome grille catching the sunlight like a flash of teeth. My stomach knots, cold and hard.

I wave the driver through, urging him to go. My hand shakes, but I try to act casual.

“Go, you fucking moron,” I mutter under my breath. “You have the right of way.”

The driver doesn’t move.

The passenger window glides down, and that’s when I see him .

Earl.

He’s leaning back in the passenger seat, one arm draped lazily out the window like he hasn’t got a care in the world. That familiar sneer stretches across his face, all teeth and malice. He lifts his hand in a slow, mocking wave.

My pulse slams against my ribs.

“Shit,” I whisper.

I slam my foot on the gas, tires shrieking as we lurch forward. The car jolts to the side before I wrestle it straight, tires squealing.

In the mirror, the Yukon jerks into motion, turning left to follow.

“Who is that guy, Mom?” Judge’s voice wobbles.

“No one to worry about, baby,” I lie, forcing myself to stay calm. “Just stay down, okay?”

“They’re right behind us!” he shouts.

“It’s okay, Judge.” My breath comes in sharp bursts, my vision narrowing to the stretch of road ahead. “We’re gonna be okay.”

The Yukon gains on us, its wide chrome grille growing larger in the mirror. I whip the car down a narrow side street, tires skidding as I nearly clip a mailbox. The SUV follows, its tires shrieking against the asphalt.

“Shit,” I hiss.

I push the gas pedal harder, my car trembling as it fights for more speed. My arms ache from clutching the wheel. My eyes flicker from the road to the mirror—to the vehicle chasing us down.

A deafening thud rattles the car as the Yukon’s front bumper slams into the back of mine.

“Mom!” Judge cries.

“I’m okay! We’re okay!” I shout, but my heart is clawing at my ribs.

I swerve left, tires screeching. Another hit. The car jolts hard enough to send my bag flying from the seat to the floor.

“Hold on, baby!”

I cut the wheel hard right, trying to shake him. The Yukon mirrors every move like a shadow.

Another slam. The back tires fishtail, my car veering too close to the edge of the road. I grip the wheel tighter, desperate to stay steady.

But the next hit is harder. The wheel jerks violently from my hands, and the car spins. My scream tears out of me as we hurtle off the road, tires shrieking against the asphalt.

I see the fence post a split second before we hit it.

The impact punches through me. My head snaps forward, slamming into the steering wheel. Pain explodes across my forehead, hot and blinding. Blood rushes down my face, warm and sticky, filling my vision with streaks of red.

“Judge?” I croak.

“I’m okay,” he whimpers. “I’m okay, Mom.”

Relief and terror collide inside me. I can’t let this end here.

“Stay here,” I whisper, fumbling blindly for the glove box. My fingers find cold metal—my handgun. I wrap my fingers around it and stumble out of the car, my knees nearly buckling beneath me.

The Yukon screeches to a stop behind us. The driver’s door swings open, and a man—someone I don’t recognize—throws himself behind it for cover. His gun appears a second later, the barrel flashing as he fires off a shot.

Crack!

I dive behind my own door as the bullet slams into the side mirror, shattering glass across my arm. The sting barely registers. Heart hammering, I grit my teeth and pop up just enough to fire two rounds in return.

Bang! Bang!

“Judge!” I scream over the chaos. “Baby, stay on the floor! Don’t move—you hear me?”

“I’m down!” His voice is high-pitched, panicked.

“Stay there, no matter what!”

Another shot blasts from the Yukon, this one punching through the window above my head. Glass rains down, cutting into my scalp and shoulders. I drop lower, pressing my back against the car.

Think, Brydgett. Think.

I push myself up again and fire twice, aiming for the driver. One bullet whizzes past his head, the other hits the driver square between the eyes. He falls back, his body crumpling in the dirt.

A second door slams, and Earl steps out, grinning like this is all some twisted game.

“Brydgett!” he calls sickly sweet. “You sure have grown up. You look good enough to eat.”

“Fuck you!” I spit.

"Oh, I plan to do just that. I've been dreaming of you for almost a decade. Almost gave up hope, thinking you offed yourself, but then Tina comes home from a family thing and says her cousin's nephew knows you."

I fire a shot at him.

Miss.

Somewhere in the distance, a low, steady hum rises—faint but growing louder. The unmistakable growl of engines. More than one. My pulse stutters, hope flickering in my chest.

“Oh, don't be like that,” Earl taunts. “I’ll be so good to you… during your heats, that is. Tina says you’ve got a boy with you. Tell me, Brydgett… is he mine?”

“He’s mine !” I roar, firing once more.

Earl fires back. Pain sears through my side like fire, sharp and unforgiving. I stagger, clutching the wound as warmth soaks my shirt.

“Mommy?” Judge says from the backseat.

“I’m okay,” I gasp, pressing my palm harder against the bleeding. “Shhh, baby. Listen to me.” My breath comes in shallow bursts. “If he comes over here… you run. Do you hear me? You run to Ike’s. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. You know the way, right?”

“Mom…”

“Promise me, Judge.”

“I know the way,” he whispers.

“Good boy,” I choke out. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I peek over the top of the car door. Earl’s grinning as he strolls closer, gun in hand. I pull the trigger one more time.

Click.

Empty.

“Gonna be so good for me, aren’t you, Brydgett?” he says, twisted pleasure filling his words.

My stomach twists. My vision blurs, my head swimming from the blood loss. His footsteps crunch closer, slow and deliberate.

I glance at Judge, but there’s no time. Earl’s too close. One move and he’d shoot him down before he made it five feet.

This is it, I think. I can’t protect him. I failed.

The rumble intensifies, vibrating the air around us. The thunder of pipes rolls closer, closer—and then?—

The roar explodes like a war cry. Tires screech. Gunfire erupts in rapid bursts.

“Shit!” Earl shouts.

I hear his boots scrambling across gravel, then the slam of the Yukon’s door. Tires screech as the vehicle roars away.

The world spins as my body slumps against the car. My vision narrows to a pinprick of light before the darkness swallows me whole.

Just before I lose consciousness, I swear I smell bergamot and blackcurrant with a tangy sweetness. Something warmer follows, rich and earthy like patchouli and mango. And finally, apple and plum—crisp and ripe, swirling together in a comforting haze.

My heart races and my belly flutters.

I love you, Judge, I think as everything fades away. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.