Danger On the Run

by Wylder Stone

  Loving, or even liking, her wasn’t an option. He had to love his family, but he didn’t have to love Genevieve. He couldn’t afford to, emotionally. Sure, Genevieve had made life better for all of them. Everything was easier with her around. She even tried to help him grieve the loss of his wife. That was the one thing she couldn’t make easier – the grieving – she’d just been a temptation he had no business exploring.

  As much as he told himself he didn’t care if she was mad at him, he really did care. He cared what she thought, cared what she did. Cared far more than was appropriate. It was hard seeing her weather this storm, but he had to let her find her way through it. He couldn’t fix this for her. He could only fix it with her.

  Caring about her also meant hurting if he’d lose her. He’d been down that road with his wife. It hurt bad enough to last a lifetime. He wouldn’t betray Hannah’s memory again. He did something he shouldn’t have out of grief, and it would forever tarnish what he once had with his wife. It didn’t matter how long she had been gone at the time. It still wasn’t right. Till death do us part wasn’t a loophole. It was a life sentence, and just because one had left the relationship, it didn’t excuse the other. He vowed to love his wife forever. It didn’t matter that she died before forever came. He wouldn’t falter, not again, not for anyone – even Genevieve.

  Though his commitment to his dead wife was solid and his vow not to let Genevieve in concrete, he couldn’t help the heaviness it created. It was a burden that brought joy, contentment, and unease.

  James knew all of those things because he lived them every day. Genevieve was his daily battle. It was hard to keep her at arm’s length and distance himself from her. Keep their roles defined and in check. But Genevieve was Genevieve, and it was damn hard to keep it all in check.

  “Vivi…” he said, using her nickname, something he never did.

  “What?” she snapped, whipping her head in his direction. “What do you want, James?”

  Her question was a loaded one, and he wasn’t sure where to start – with what he wanted or what he could have. Those were two different things, and the answer to what he wanted was simple. It just wasn’t his to have. Before he could answer her, his view shifted to the rearview mirror and had his attention. He watched for a moment, then two, as the black sedan he noticed earlier in their drive still trailed them.

  She was being followed.

  She was being followed.

  She was being followed.

  “I think we’re being followed.” Not the answer he had been constructing in his mind but one he had to address now that they weren’t alone on the road.

  “What?” Genevieve quickly turned in her seat, looking out the rear window. “How long? How long have they been following us?”

  “A while,” he replied, keeping his eye on the road, only taking occasional glances in the mirror. “Turn around and face forward. Don’t turn back again. Okay?”

  “James. Why. What are you going to do?”

  “Jackson,” he said, putting his brother on speaker, “we have a problem.”

  “I know. We’re already headed your way,” Jackson said. “Your program got a hit. We’re about ten minutes out.”

  “A hit?” James asked. “A black sedan, maybe?”

  “Yeah,” Jackson said with surprise. “That car Benson and Tasha bought in Vivi’s name? Bought it in Pomona, just outside Los Angeles. They’re here, James.”

  “You have no idea.” James chuckled. “Got a black sedan on our ass.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Jackson yelled. His fist could be heard hitting something on the other end of the phone. “We’re coming in fast but may not be fast enough. I don’t like this, James. What do you want me to do?”

  “Hang on. Let’s see how much trouble we’re dealing with,” James said as he pulled the car slightly to the right and slowed down, allowing the car to pass. “He’s not passing me. He’s here for fun.”

  When James sped up, so did the car trailing him. James moved to the right, and so did the black sedan. Swift move left, and the black car mirrored him.

  “He’s my shadow, Jackson. He wants to play. Car’s blacked-out – color, windows, wheels – all black. He’ll be the guy on my ass when we cross paths.” James gave the description of the car to his brother despite the pursuit itself making it obvious. “Kind of fitting. We’ve been chasing a shadow.”

  “I really don’t think that’s funny.” He heard Genevieve’s nervous waver in her voice.

  James grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  “I can get local law enforcement there in half the time it’s taking us. You’re right on the county line, and there’s a sheriff's station a handful of miles ahead of you. Want me to make a call?” Jackson offered.

  “No. We handle this our way until we know who we’re dealing with. Too messy,” James said. “Let’s leave them out of it unless we get too close to town. Less cleanup that way. This asshole doesn’t get to put a spotlight on Elite Force.”

  “Copy that. We’re seven minutes out,” Jackson fired back.

  James looked at Genevieve. “You ready?”

  When she nodded her head, he released her hand, gripped the steering wheel, and took off. The trailing car matched their speed around every curve and corner of the road. When James slowed again, the black car came in hard, hitting them from the rear.

  James maintained control of the vehicle, despite the attempt from behind. “He’s done playing, Jackson. That was a hard hit. Here we go.”

  “Shit,” Jackson said over the speakerphone. “Don’t be stupid. We’re almost there.”

  “I’m the smart one, remember?” James laughed, despite the serious predicament they were in.

  Killer sat up in the back seat and began barking ferociously at the approaching black car until it hit again, knocking him to the floor. Genevieve screamed from the force of the last hit. Something about her emotion settled in James’s gut, and his fury grew.

  “It’s okay. It’s just a hit, Vivi. We’re fine.” He tried to comfort her but didn’t take his focus off the task at hand – staying alive.

  When the car pulled forward to James’s side, he let it. He matched blow for blow as the other car rammed into them from the side and tried to knock them off the road. The car was taking a beating, but they were going to come out of this unscathed. James was determined. His training kept them alive.

  Giving up, or so James thought, the other car pulled ahead and sped up, provoking James’s pursuit. When they reached top speeds, and James was gaining momentum, the other vehicle slammed on its brakes, causing James to do the same. Despite standing on his brakes, James wasn’t able to stop in time, so quick thinking turned his hit into a tactical maneuver often used by police. Rather than a blunt rear hit, James steered the car in such a way as to hit the rear corner of the car to cause a disabling spinout.

  “You got this, bro?” someone said through the speaker. Somehow, his brothers saw what they were doing. Maybe a drone or perhaps the onboard surveillance – he didn’t care. He just needed to disable the other vehicle and bring everything to a halt. Genevieve was terrified, and it was killing him that she had to endure the events before them.

  With the final clip of the rear, both cars briefly lost control in a sort of slow motion. James watched the other car spin more than once, only catching glimpses as his own car moved uncontrollably from left to right. When his car finally came to a stop, he was facing right while the other vehicle faced left, straddling both lanes.

  He caught his breath for a moment before he turned to Genevieve and looked her up and down while his hand stroked her arm. “You okay?”

  She didn’t immediately respond, just stared straight ahead at the other car, jaw slack, face void of color.

  “Vivi!” he shouted. “Talk to me!”

  Shaken from her trance, she let out the breath she had been holding and relaxed in her seat. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay. What the
hell was that?” Her hand clutched her chest, and she turned to the back seat to check on Killer, who lay moaning across the floor between the front and back seat.

  “I don’t know.” He really didn’t. James wasn’t the combat and action guy. Sure, his brothers trained him in everything from hand-to-hand combat to tactical driving, but he’d never had to engage on such a serious level. He was the computer guy.

  “I need to know who’s in that car,” Genevieve said.

  “No. You’re safer in here,” he said, but her demeanor changed from fear to determination, and he didn’t like what that implied. “Stay in the fucking car, Vivi. I mean it. You’re a moving target out there.”

  “Aren’t we in here too?” she questioned.

  “Not like you are out there. You don’t know who’s in there and what their endgame is.”

  “But the car is just sitting there. What if they’re hurt or dead? That car took it harder than we did. They can’t hurt me if—” she defended before James cut her off.

  “Or what if they’re not? What if they’re just sitting in there behind those blacked-out windows, watching you, hoping that’s what you’ll think? They’re goading you. Don’t fall for it. Stay in the fucking car. Remember your training.”

  “There may not even be a driver in there – another remote job,” she offered.

  “Not with that kind of driving. There’s someone in there.”

  “James…”

  “He’s right, Vivi,” Jackson said over the speakerphone. “Stay put. Don’t get out of the car. We’re almost there.”

  “What if…what if they’re…dead?” she nearly whispered.

  “Only one way to find out.” James took off, weaving around the other car, which followed in pursuit.

  “You got me on GPS, Jackson?”

  “Affirmative,” Jackson replied.

  “Five more miles and you call in help. We’re getting too close to civilization and need to shut this asshole down,” James said.

  Jackson grunted. “No worries. I’ll see you in two.”

  The black car approached and slammed into the back of James and Genevieve, not once but twice, before a fork in the road came into view. James veered left toward Los Angeles, his brothers in the oncoming lane, but the black car didn’t follow. It veered to the right on to parts unknown trailing up through the mountains.

  James came to a screeching halt on the side of the road and watched as Jackson blew past him, skidding around the sharp corner in pursuit of the black car.

  “Meet my brother, asshole,” he said.

  James and Genevieve got out of the car as Derek pulled up next to them. When he got out of his vehicle, Killer jumped through the front seat and out the door, right past James and into Derek’s car.

  “I don’t think he likes your driving.” Derek laughed, watching the dog climb into the passenger seat of his car.

  “Screw you,” James shot back. “We could have died back there.”

  “No. You wouldn’t have died.” Derek leaned against his car with one ankle crossed over the other and his hands in his pockets while looking at what was left of the car James and Genevieve had been in. “They were trying to scare you, not kill you.”

  “How can you possibly know that?” James questioned.

  Derek nodded to Genevieve. “Her. She has his money, remember? She’s no good to them dead.”

  James looked hard at Derek, but he couldn’t discredit his brother. He was right. “Good thing you didn’t get out of the car then.”

  “Any idea who was behind the wheel?” Derek asked, breaking the silence.

  James snorted. “Yeah, Genevieve.”

  “Me?” Genevieve questioned.

  “No plates, temporary permit in the window – that was the car bought in your name. Given what Jackson said, it makes sense,” James said. “And random people don’t tend to engage in car chases like that.”

  “Oh, my God,” Genevieve whispered.

  “He really is here. If what we found earlier didn’t make it clear, it’s clear now. He’s here,” James said.

  “They…” Genevieve said with a sinking feeling. What if her sister was in that car? “They’re here…”

  12

  “Why aren’t you following them?” Genevieve asked as they drove back to Santa Marina. “What if Jackson needs you.”

  James scoffed at her attempt to play on the heartstrings. “Jackson can take care of himself. And I’m not getting into another chase with you in the car. It isn’t safe, Genevieve.”

  “We’re back to Genevieve.” He’d dropped the nickname already, and they were back to the brick wall that was James’s emotions. “I was just in the car a few minutes ago for the first round.” She sat with her arms crossed, frustrated with his bully tactics.

  “No, Genevieve. It’s a big-ass no. Okay? It isn’t safe, and I already regret putting you in danger in the first place. That could’ve ended…” He paused, trying to maintain his composure when what he really wanted to do was lose his shit.

  “Why? Why do you get to make the rules?” she fought. “My sister could be in that car! We could find out all of the who’s, what’s, and where’s.”

  “No.”

  “Why, because I’m a girl? News flash – I’m tougher than I look. I kicked your ass, remember?”

  “News flash – no!” he fired back quickly.

  Genevieve huffed, turning to face him. “What is your problem?”

  “You! Okay? You…here…in the car.” James’s tone was sharp, and his words loaded.

  Genevieve fell back in her seat in disbelief. His words stung. Her voice dropped to nearly inaudible. “Do I really bother you that much? Do you despise me so much that…”

  “I was scared!” he said, cutting her off before she could finish.

  Genevieve was speechless. James had her emotions all over the grid, and she didn’t know where to land on his last admission. Scared? Of her? Of feeling? They sat in a long silence, each trying to decipher what his words meant.

  “You were in the car, and I was…scared,” James finally spoke. “I was afraid for…you. I couldn’t have…if something happened…”

  “Oh…” Genevieve was starting to understand, or so she thought.

  “It would crush Ruby,” James clarified.

  Just when she thought they were having a breakthrough moment, James pulled away. She shook her head in disappointment. “Ruby…right.”

  “That’s…not what I meant…dammit.” James’s frustration was beginning to overwhelm him. He couldn’t find the right words because his head and his heart were telling him different things

  “I know what you meant. I get it, okay?” Determined not to show him just how hurtful his words were, she dug her heels in and went for a low blow. “Ruby couldn’t lose her substitute caretaker.”

  “What the hell, Genevieve? That’s not it at all! You know you’re more than that to…”

  “Forget it, James, okay? I think I finally know where I stand and that it will always be on the outside.”

  “We’re almost back to the Elite Building. Let’s talk about this later.” Later because he wasn’t good at expressing emotion and feelings and needed a break so he could get it together and say what he really meant.

  “I think you said everything that needs to be said, James.”

  He hadn’t said everything, but he would. They sat at the gates of the vertical bridge that crossed the channel that led from the ocean to the bay at the port near Santa Marina. A barge or ship of sorts had to be passing through as the lift was up in the middle, creating the stalled traffic, which was prolonging their uncomfortable car ride. When the gate went up, James proceeded with a handful of other cars before he noticed the gate was back down, and traffic halted again when he referred to his rearview mirror.

  “Shit,” he said, sitting forward, looking out his window.

  “What, James?” She didn’t like how he was acting, or maybe it was his tone. She recognized it as mea
ning something was wrong…again.

  “Do you see a barge or anything on your side of the bridge?” he asked.

  When there wasn’t anything on her side to report, she turned around to see what had James suddenly alarmed. The bridge was closed.

  That all too familiar chill raced down her back. “No. There’s nothing, James.”

  “Nothing over here either. Not a damn thing.” When he glanced back at the gate, he saw Derek’s car pull out of line and race in the other direction. He had followed them back in case they ran into trouble with the black car again. “It’s a damn trap. Another damn trap.”

  There was a violent shake as the car crossed the bridge. It was lifting. A dozen or so cars that had been caught ahead of James had cleared the vertical lift, the last one nearly a casualty as his bumper caught briefly before moving on. But James, and the handful of others on the center section of the bridge that was now lifting, were trapped. They’d each pulled to the side and parked, gripping their steering wheels and likely panicking.

  “Son of a bitch. How does he know where we are?” James looked at the cars around him, trying to decide if any of them were on that lift with him for a reason. Maybe they’d been followed by another vehicle. Maybe there was someone waiting for them knowing they’d take the bridge as it was the fastest and most direct way to Elite without getting stuck in freeway traffic. “I don’t see the black car. Why trap us up here. What’s the next move?”

  Here it was, fate intervening, making him see things for what they were. The situation on the bridge was frightening and obviously dangerous, but his concern came right back to one person. Genevieve. His worry wasn’t for himself or the other people trapped on the damn bridge with them – it was her. No matter how hard he tried to deny the feelings that constantly nagged at him, they were still there, louder than ever. He needed to get her the hell out of there.