Overture (North Security, #1)(48)

I make a face. “Are you serious?”

“Hey,” he says gently. “I know how to tail someone without them knowing.”

“That’s weirdly reassuring.”

That earns me a small smile.

Outside I find Cody and Laney waiting by the beat-up white truck, Cody looking miserable, his shoulders slumped as if perpetually protecting himself. He actually looks better than Elijah—no black eyes or visible bruises. I think they’re all on his ribs. His father hits him where it can’t be seen.

I move to hug him, but he takes a reflexive step back.

My face falls, but I struggle to act casual. “I heard we’re going for a drive.”

“Happy birthday,” he says, apology in his voice. “I got you a present, but it’s… I lost it.”

More likely his father found it, whatever it was, and beat him for it. Acid rises in my throat. I hate not being able to do anything about it.

Maybe on the drive I can convince him Liam can help.

“The only thing I want for my birthday is hanging out with you,” I say, climbing into the truck. I don’t know how much a normal high school experience really helped me. The endless classes and exams when all I really wanted to do was play the violin. Having Laney and Cody as friends is different. If this is what normal means, I understand why it’s so important.

I know without asking that we’re heading to the lake, where trails lead to a rocky swimming hole. We go there a lot to hang out. Except we barely get ten minutes from home before headlights appear behind us, way too close to the truck. Cody swears in surprise. “What the hell?”

“Oh my God,” I moan. “He said he would be discreet.”

Laney turns in her seat. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s not anyone from North Security. It’s a Crown Victoria, late nineties model.”

She has that kind of detailed knowledge of random things, so I trust her. The North Security vehicles are all black Explorers designed to hold a maximum number of people, and a couple large trucks for hauling supplies.

“Then who is it?” Cody says as the car behind us speeds up.

Impact. We’re jolted forward as the car slams into the truck. Cody swerves hard but manages to keep the truck on the road.

“No one we want to meet,” I say, gripping the leather seat. “Keep going.”

It comes to me with calm certainty—this is about my father.

A child who might remember something from when she was hiding under her father’s desk. Not only from the day he died. From before that. A phone call. A conversation.

I still don’t remember anything. There were diplomats and formal dinners where I would be forced to wear itchy dresses. Endless phone calls where I would play with my doll underneath his desk. What could I have heard that’s dangerous? Maybe Liam is right. It doesn’t matter what I’ve heard. It only matters that someone thinks I might know something.

The car behind us speeds up, pulling alongside. “Oh shit,” Laney says.

They’re trying to run us off the road. The crunch of metal. Cody fights to keep the truck straight. If we go off the road right now, we’ll head straight into a ditch—and then be sitting ducks. Elijah taught me self-defense, but I have a feeling the man in that car has a gun.

A burst of light as a large black SUV jumps onto the road, headlights overbright, engine smooth and loud. It must be Liam in one of the Explorers. He slams into the Crown Vic, pushing it into the embankment instead of us.

Cody fights the steering, but we’re going too fast. There’s a loud pop as the ancient white pickup truck is pushed one mile past its endurance. The truck swerves hard, almost flipping over, before it rocks back onto four wheels.

There’s a shout. A wild cry.

The whole world shakes as we leave the pavement and hit sliding rocks.

A tree looms ahead in the windshield. We’re slowing down, but not fast enough. We slam into the trunk with a loud thunk and the punch of a half-inflated, ancient, yellowed airbag.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR





The London Symphony Orchestra was booked to travel on the Titanic’s maiden voyage, but they changed boats at the last minute.


LIAM

The man driving the Crown Victoria has pale eyes and a scar across his left eye. I put a bullet in the middle of his forehead before he can talk. There’s a half second of regret about that. He could have had useful information, though probably not. And he deserved a painful death. But I can’t risk the fucker hurting anyone while I’m losing my mind with worry. I sprint across the road to the white truck, which smokes from its rumpled hood. By the time I get there Cody is helping Laney out. Samantha pushes her way out from the other side, in time for me to catch her in my arms.

“Are you okay? Talk to me.” I run my hands over her body, searching for injuries. The whole chase probably lasted two and a half seconds, but it’s more than enough for someone to be hurt. For someone to be killed. The human body is so fucking fragile.

She pushes at my hands. “I’m fine. Liam, I’m fine.”

I hold myself back long enough to study her face. Her brown eyes are wide with worry. Tear tracks glisten down her cheeks. “I’m not,” I say hoarsely. “I’m not fucking fine.”

Then I clutch her to my chest, trying in vain to control the wild beat of my heart. I feel like some kind of feral creature. I want to beat the earth and howl at the moon. I want to find the fuckers who sent an assassin after Samantha and rip them apart with my bare hands.