The Fear That Divides Us (The Devil's Dust #3)(61)

“Jessica!” I yell, running into the apartment. I race into Jessica’s room, bathroom, and Addie’s room, but I don’t find her. I close my eyes trying to think, trying to calm my racing thoughts. That guy in the van popping in my mind, the way he was driving that minivan like he stole the f*cking thing. The way he looked familiar. He had to have had something to do with this.

I look across the hall, and run toward the apartment door placed adjacent to Jessica’s apartment. Jessica told me her babysitter lives right across from her. Maybe she is over there. Maybe the sitter heard something.

I pound on the door rapidly, not faltering until it is swung open.

A black-haired college-aged woman opens the door, her hair in pigtails and thick glasses on her face. “What the hell?” she snaps, eyeing me pissed off.

“Is Jessica in there with you?” I question, looking over her shoulder.

“No, she went on a date,” the girl replies, looking at me suspiciously.

“Bobby!” Addie hollers excitedly from the couch.

“Hey Hun. You both stay in here. Lock the door. Don’t come out of here, do you understand me?” I yell, pointing at the babysitter. Her eyes widen, fear written on her face. “Do you understand?” I roar, slapping my hand against the doorframe trying to get her attention.

“Yes,” she peeps, her eyes filling with tears. I turn and run down the stairs.

I jump in my truck and race in the direction the van went, hoping I can catch up to it.

Jessica

My face burns and stings where my forehead was slammed into the counter. I try to open my eyes, the muscles in my lids resisting. I notice the worn out seat beneath my arms, and the hum of a motor around me. I’m in a vehicle. Sitting up slowly, my head swims with a fog. My eyes land on the blond in the front and it all becomes clear. Grant. The van swerves, throwing me into the side of the window with a loud thump. Grant looks in the rearview mirror, his eyes locking with mine.

“I will shoot you in the head if you try anything,” Grant threatens, tapping the steering wheel with the barrel of a gun. I nod in understanding, and sit back in the seat. I can barely breathe with the fear rushing through my chest. The thought of dying today is too much to bear. I don’t have what he wants. I never went and met with the lawyer to finish the last of the details.

“I don’t have the money, Grant. I haven’t signed the papers yet,” I tell him, trying to make him understand I don’t have anything to give him. My hands tremble with terror, causing me to fidget with them.

“Bullshit,” he scoffs, running his hand under his sniffling nose. He looks in the mirror and furrows his brows in anger. His eyes make me wince in my seat. He’s f*cking crazy. No matter what I say, he won’t care. He has Travis’s blood in him making him a part of the sadistic gene pool.

“You better get it by tonight then, or I will kill you. I’m not playing games,” he yells, clearly agitated.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask, looking out the windows, trying to get an idea if there’s a way to escape or scream for someone to hear me.

“When I came here, I watched you. Saw you hanging with that biker guy, so I followed him. Which led to a motorcycle club. That is when I pieced it all together,” he replies, ignoring my question. “You killed my brother, you had some gang kill my blood, and you’re the reason my parents told me to go to hell, that if I were more like Travis, they wouldn’t feel so worthless as parents. You, it’s your fault!” he screams, shaking the steering wheel in a fit.

I look down at the floor, the gravity of the situation becoming clear. Grant is going to kill me tonight. Even if my luck pays out and he doesn’t kill me, if I manage to pay him and he lets me live, he thinks I had Travis killed. He’ll run back to his parents playing the good son, telling them what happened. The authorities will take the club down and I’ll never see Bobby again. I close my eyes tightly, Bobby’s words of how I was just scared to love seeping through my mind. How I use excuse after excuse of why I couldn’t be with him. He was right. I’m just scared of loving him, scared he will get tired of me, just like Travis did. But he’s not Travis. He was never Travis.

I blow out a steady breath, contemplating the thought of the authorities taking me to jail, taking Addie from me. I lived cautiously all these years, never doing anything to bring attention to myself, trying to stay away from danger the best I could, and for what? The very past I was running from to come and show me I wasted my life in fear and pain. I have to do something. I can’t go out like this. I can’t let this happen. Looking up, I watch Grant ranting about how much of a bitch I am. He’s distracted. Lifting myself off the seat, I dig my bare feet into the floor for leverage. I mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to do, knowing it could kill me.

On a slow exhale, I push myself forward, flinging myself into Grant’s lap. Hands grasping the gritty steering wheel, I jerk it to the side so the van whips to the side violently. Tires screech loudly as we become airborne, the motor sounding with a loud hum as we take flight. Everything slows while in midair. Fast-food bags and plastic bottles toss around as we tilt. Releasing a breath, I blink; time resumes its fast pace. The van slams to the ground. Everything that was in the air, falling down with it.

Violently, I’m jostled to the ceiling and then to the floor over and over as we flip down a hill before finally, my body strikes to a sudden rest. Every part of me aches and my neck throbs from the harsh whiplash. I cough and wheeze trying to pull air into my lungs.