Treasured by Thursday
Page 89
The intersection was closing in fast.
Traffic flowed.
“Oh, shit.”
Connor slammed on the brakes and swung the car around.
Gabi lunged forward, felt a vibration up her arm, under her cast.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s a setup.”
A car slowed in front of them.
Connor twisted the wheel and sped in the opposite lane of traffic.
“A setup? So there wasn’t an accident?”
“No.”
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or frightened.
Connor kept looking in his rearview mirror until Gabi twisted around to see what he was looking at.
“Hang on.”
He punched the accelerator as a car pulled into their lane.
The car behind them kissed the back bumper, pushing them into a full spin.
When they came to a stop, Gabi looked past the exploded airbags and up into the lights of a car glaring at her through the driver’s-side door.
Connor was pinned and she was dazed.
Someone yanked her door open. “Are you OK?”
She set her hand over Connor’s. “Connor?”
He mumbled.
“We need an ambulance,” Gabi said.
She looked again at the man at her door. He wore a suit, as if he were on his way to work. His dark fingers were holding on to her arm. “I’ve got you, Gabriella.”
She focused on his face again. “Do I know you?”
That’s when she felt the pinch and an all too familiar rush of heat move through the beat of her heart.
Her last thought, as the stranger helped her out of the car, was not again.
They were speeding through the valley toward the 101 when Solomon answered his phone. Hunter looked up from the list of contacts in his phone to find Solomon swerving to the off-ramp.
“What the—”
“Gabi and Connor just left the house.”
Hunter dropped his phone. “What?”
“She got a call, someone told her you and I were in an accident.”
“No.” No, no, no . . . Gabi on the road with Connor . . . alone. “Hurry.”
“I am.” Solomon drifted through the light, took the on-ramp too fast, bottomed out the car twice before he made speed.
What felt like forever couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, and he and Solomon were closing in on the street that turned up into the neighborhood of his new home.
A fire truck blocked the road, police cars were everywhere.
Hunter pushed out of the rolling car and ran.
The closer he came to the scene, the deeper the despair in his stomach.
The Maserati was a mangled mess of metal.
The fire department was preparing to rip the roof of the car away from the frame.
When others stood to the side to watch as if this were a spectator sport, Hunter ran into the scene in search of one person.
“Hey!” Someone called his way.
Hunter kept his feet moving.
The passenger door was open, the seat was empty.
Someone grabbed him and tried to hold him back. “This is my car!” he yelled at the uniformed man trying to hold him back. “Gabi?”
He ducked down to see Connor lying across the center of the car.
“Connor?”
“We need to clear this area.”
Hunter twisted away and knelt by the car. “Connor?”
The man focused. “Setup.”
“Where’s Gabi?”
“W-L-H-six-four-nine.”
“What?” Hunter was past the point of panic.
“W-L-H-six-four-nine.” He kept repeating the letters and numbers until someone finally grabbed Hunter by his stomach and pulled him away.
He struggled out of the police hold. “My wife was in the car. Where is she?”
The cop kept a safe distance and looked around. “We didn’t find a woman in the car.”
Hunter spun in a circle. “Someone had to see something.”
Solomon ran toward him.
Hunter grabbed him in a panic. “She’s gone. Aww fuck, Solomon, he has her.”
“We don’t know that.”
Hunter pushed away and started yelling toward the horde of lookie-loos. “Who saw what happened? Someone saw something.” The crowd parted around him, fearful of the crazy man yelling at strangers.
Finally one of the police officers was able to corral him long enough to tell him what they knew.
Gabi . . . or a woman with a broken arm and dark hair, had stumbled out of the car on the arm of a well-dressed Hispanic man. Goatee, dark hair, tall. Looked like she was really messed up but able to walk . . . kind of. Four-door car, maybe gray, maybe silver. Honda, Acura, maybe an older Lexus. Hard to say.
They sped off toward Sunset.
No one followed.
Connor was pulled from the car, heavily concussed with an unknown amount of internal damage. As the paramedics pushed him into the back of the ambulance, Hunter motioned Solomon toward the emergency vehicle. “You should go.”
“My priority is keeping you safe.”
Hunter glared. “I could only hope the man would come after me and not the people I care about.”
Solomon didn’t budge.
Officer Delgado and his partner showed up as the police on scene were finishing their questions. “Ready to talk to us now, Blackwell?”
Solomon and Hunter exchanged looks.
“Connor might have recorded something on the dashboard camera.”
Hunter looked at the cops, knew he didn’t have any choices left.
“Follow us.”
Her arm no longer hurt, her foggy head was full of color and muffled noise. Gabi was vaguely aware of the two men holding her up and leading her into a house. They could be taking her to a ditch on the side of the road and she wouldn’t care.
Traffic flowed.
“Oh, shit.”
Connor slammed on the brakes and swung the car around.
Gabi lunged forward, felt a vibration up her arm, under her cast.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s a setup.”
A car slowed in front of them.
Connor twisted the wheel and sped in the opposite lane of traffic.
“A setup? So there wasn’t an accident?”
“No.”
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or frightened.
Connor kept looking in his rearview mirror until Gabi twisted around to see what he was looking at.
“Hang on.”
He punched the accelerator as a car pulled into their lane.
The car behind them kissed the back bumper, pushing them into a full spin.
When they came to a stop, Gabi looked past the exploded airbags and up into the lights of a car glaring at her through the driver’s-side door.
Connor was pinned and she was dazed.
Someone yanked her door open. “Are you OK?”
She set her hand over Connor’s. “Connor?”
He mumbled.
“We need an ambulance,” Gabi said.
She looked again at the man at her door. He wore a suit, as if he were on his way to work. His dark fingers were holding on to her arm. “I’ve got you, Gabriella.”
She focused on his face again. “Do I know you?”
That’s when she felt the pinch and an all too familiar rush of heat move through the beat of her heart.
Her last thought, as the stranger helped her out of the car, was not again.
They were speeding through the valley toward the 101 when Solomon answered his phone. Hunter looked up from the list of contacts in his phone to find Solomon swerving to the off-ramp.
“What the—”
“Gabi and Connor just left the house.”
Hunter dropped his phone. “What?”
“She got a call, someone told her you and I were in an accident.”
“No.” No, no, no . . . Gabi on the road with Connor . . . alone. “Hurry.”
“I am.” Solomon drifted through the light, took the on-ramp too fast, bottomed out the car twice before he made speed.
What felt like forever couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, and he and Solomon were closing in on the street that turned up into the neighborhood of his new home.
A fire truck blocked the road, police cars were everywhere.
Hunter pushed out of the rolling car and ran.
The closer he came to the scene, the deeper the despair in his stomach.
The Maserati was a mangled mess of metal.
The fire department was preparing to rip the roof of the car away from the frame.
When others stood to the side to watch as if this were a spectator sport, Hunter ran into the scene in search of one person.
“Hey!” Someone called his way.
Hunter kept his feet moving.
The passenger door was open, the seat was empty.
Someone grabbed him and tried to hold him back. “This is my car!” he yelled at the uniformed man trying to hold him back. “Gabi?”
He ducked down to see Connor lying across the center of the car.
“Connor?”
“We need to clear this area.”
Hunter twisted away and knelt by the car. “Connor?”
The man focused. “Setup.”
“Where’s Gabi?”
“W-L-H-six-four-nine.”
“What?” Hunter was past the point of panic.
“W-L-H-six-four-nine.” He kept repeating the letters and numbers until someone finally grabbed Hunter by his stomach and pulled him away.
He struggled out of the police hold. “My wife was in the car. Where is she?”
The cop kept a safe distance and looked around. “We didn’t find a woman in the car.”
Hunter spun in a circle. “Someone had to see something.”
Solomon ran toward him.
Hunter grabbed him in a panic. “She’s gone. Aww fuck, Solomon, he has her.”
“We don’t know that.”
Hunter pushed away and started yelling toward the horde of lookie-loos. “Who saw what happened? Someone saw something.” The crowd parted around him, fearful of the crazy man yelling at strangers.
Finally one of the police officers was able to corral him long enough to tell him what they knew.
Gabi . . . or a woman with a broken arm and dark hair, had stumbled out of the car on the arm of a well-dressed Hispanic man. Goatee, dark hair, tall. Looked like she was really messed up but able to walk . . . kind of. Four-door car, maybe gray, maybe silver. Honda, Acura, maybe an older Lexus. Hard to say.
They sped off toward Sunset.
No one followed.
Connor was pulled from the car, heavily concussed with an unknown amount of internal damage. As the paramedics pushed him into the back of the ambulance, Hunter motioned Solomon toward the emergency vehicle. “You should go.”
“My priority is keeping you safe.”
Hunter glared. “I could only hope the man would come after me and not the people I care about.”
Solomon didn’t budge.
Officer Delgado and his partner showed up as the police on scene were finishing their questions. “Ready to talk to us now, Blackwell?”
Solomon and Hunter exchanged looks.
“Connor might have recorded something on the dashboard camera.”
Hunter looked at the cops, knew he didn’t have any choices left.
“Follow us.”
Her arm no longer hurt, her foggy head was full of color and muffled noise. Gabi was vaguely aware of the two men holding her up and leading her into a house. They could be taking her to a ditch on the side of the road and she wouldn’t care.
