Don't You Dare (Morgan Young Book 3) by Adam Nicholls

Author:Adam Nicholls [Nicholls, Adam]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-02-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

There could’ve been cops on this stretch of road, but for Erika the thrill of the chase had already passed. She’d won, and as much of an anticlimax as that was, she wasn’t prepared to start over. That was why she waited for the right moment to stick out her thumb, waving down the next poor sap who was kind enough to share their car with her.

It was a middle-aged man with a red, round face who finally stopped for her. She climbed into the back seat to keep her face out of view, ignoring all his small talk. There were too many questions, and the only one relevant enough for her to answer was “where you headed?” For the rest of the journey, she simply sat and listened to Carole Carpenter’s soft voice flowing through the crackling speakers. Her thoughts were focused on the chase.

Since leaving her home, she’d known it was too good to be true. The fact that Morgan Young had appeared at her door was nothing if not a warning to get the hell out of there, and thankfully she’d listened. She’d even taken Mason with her, and for the most part that was a smart move. It was just a shame it turned out how it did: abandoning the car and running into the woods like some outcast being evicted from town. Chased out like some freak.

Erika wasn’t a freak, and she told herself that over and over.

The gas station was the next port of call, and that was where everything had fallen apart. Although she’d put everything in place—pouring out the small reserve of gas to threaten Mason with and keeping her business inside fast—it didn’t stop that man from talking to her. Who was he anyway? Erika had a suspicion he was a cop, as nobody dressed that smart spoke to someone like her unless they were selling something, and that was what had turned her attention back to the car, where Morgan Young was snooping around. She’d had no choice but to head back to the Mustang, even if just to begin a pursuit.

By the time she’d gotten back to the car, both men had vanished. Erika had watched them get back into their own car—car, not plural—and at that exact moment she knew she was in trouble. There was no time to fuel up, even after paying for it, so she’d sat and contemplated her options until she realized there was only one.

She’d had to leave.

Fast.

There wasn’t much of a race. The Mustang far outgunned whatever shitmobile they were driving, and Erika had laughed the whole way there, leaving both the cop and Morgan in the dust. It wasn’t until she was far up the long stretch of road that the engine had started to cough and stutter, the last remnants of gas filtering through the system. She’d had just enough time to pull the car safely to one side of the road, and after that… well, that was when she saw her pursuers and knew there was nothing left to do but run.

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