Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
The bikes veer away to avoid the swerving van, but no one falls off. I don't know what Devil's hanging on to, but he's doing a crazy job of it.
The woman in back with us pulls her gun. She points it at the ceiling.
“No!” I yell and throw myself to the side, charging head first since my hands are cuffed. I hit her arm, and the gun goes off with a bang that makes my ears ring. A hole appears in the side of the van that whistles as the air outside rushes by.
The guy wrestles me away, and the woman gets behind me to get me under control, but I get a kick off, and it knocks the gun out of her hand. It rattles across the metal floor to the back of the van.
“You little bitch,” he yells as he stands up and raises a hand, but just then the driver swerves again. The guy loses his balance and slams into the wall. “Jesus, Frank! You're gonna kill us back here.”
My feet are still free, and I brace them against the bench across from me. Then I put all the strength I've got into straightening them, launching both me and the woman backwards. She cries out, then slams into the side of the van. Her head rings against the side so loudly it makes me wince. She slumps to the floor.
The guy eyes me, then the gun on the floor, then back at me. Handcuffed, there's no way I can get my hands on the gun before him, but maybe I can at least slow him down. I roll back until I'm lying on top of it.
Fury twists his features as he comes closer. “You little cunt. I'm gonna take that gun and jam it up your ass before I shoot it.” He glances at his partner, who still lies still.
Crap, crap, crap.
There's the bang of a gunshot outside, and the passenger side window shatters. “Fuck!” screams the driver as he veers left.
And then Devil is there, swinging in through the ruined window to land in the passenger seat. He whips out a gun immediately and aims it right at the driver's head. “Pull the fuck over, right now, or I'm going to ventilate your skull and leave your body in a ditch.”
“Devil!” I yell, as the cop back with me gets on me, trying to get me away from the gun under me. I try to get enough of a grip so I can pull it with me as I push back. My wrists scrape painfully against the metal floor.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” growls the cop, but Devil and the driver are struggling over the wheel. Just as the cop tries to kick me out of the way, we swerve in the opposite direction. All three of us in the back, including the unconscious woman, flop over to the opposite side.
The guy and I slam into the wall at the same time. He swears loudly, while I just grunt. I've still got a hold on the pistol, only barely, but with my hands behind my back, it's not like I can be any threat with it. I just have to keep it away.
The car straightens suddenly, and we're rolled the other way. This time, the cop's ready and braces himself. I can't, so I hit the wall hard again, my shoulder screaming at me as sharp tendrils of pain spread from it. The gun slips from my fingers.
“Hah! Got it, bitch!”
I push the pain in my shoulder away, trying to focus, finding the cop pointing his gun right at me while he uses his other hand to cling to a bench while we slide first one way, then the other. His dark brows furrow, and he steadies his aim. There's furious murder in his eyes, and I have nowhere to go. His trigger finger tightens.
A bright light spills in through the back windows, right into the cop's face. By reflex, he puts his gun hand up in front of his eyes so he doesn't have to let go with the other and lose his balance again. A moment for me to move.
The light through the back flickers, like someone's flashing their brights over and over again. The cop squints against it, and I use that to get closer to kick him in the knee. It's as high as I can get from the floor of the van. My toes explode with the pain of it. I'm sure there's a painless way to kick someone, but that wasn't it. My only reprieve is that he hisses with pain and loses his balance, toppling back onto the bench.
Two loud gunshots, and at first I think it's him, except he's still finding his feet while calling me a little bitch. Instead, the backdoors suddenly swing open with a crash as cool air rushes through the van. I scream and cover my head while rolling further. I was inches from leaning on that.