Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“So, why do you think he came?”
“I’d say he’s probably not happy about gettin’ served.” Jules didn’t answer, so I dialed her number again. “What kind of questions was he asking?”
“Stuff like where did she live and who she lived with. Wanted to know how long she’d been out at the orchard. Shit like that.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Nah. I knew better than that.”
“Good.” When Jules still didn’t answer, I sent her a text to call me, then grumbled, “Fuck. Where the hell is she?”
“I bet she’s already over at Danver’s for her lunch shift.” Hayes glanced down at his watch. “You know how she’s always early.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I gotta get over there.”
Jules had started picking up some shifts at Danver’s when the orchard slowed down and seemed to really enjoy it. Hayes was probably right, but until I laid eyes on her, my mind wouldn’t be put at ease. I stormed out of the office and down the hall. When Rooster saw me charging for the front door, he jumped to his feet and asked, “Whoa! Where’s the fire?”
“No time to explain.”
Rooster was quick on his feet as he followed me out the front door. “Hold on! I’m coming with you!”
He raced over and got in the truck next to me, then buckled up as I whipped out of the parking lot and started toward Danver’s. On the way over, I told him about the situation with Jules and her shit-head ex and how MJ had been helping Jules file for divorce. By the time I was done telling him everything, Rooster was just as concerned as I was about what he might do to Jules.
“You really think this guy’s come here to hurt her?”
“I got no idea why he’s come.” I shrugged. “It’s been three years. It could be that he’s moved on and is ready to sign the papers, but my gut is telling me that isn’t the case.”
“Well, you don’t gotta worry. We won’t let anything...”
Before he could finish his thought, a black van came barreling up behind us and slammed into my rear bumper. The impact wasn’t enough to deploy my airbags, but the rear of the truck swerved to the left, causing Rooster and me to jolt to the side. Rooster whipped around to get a better look at who’d hit us as he shouted, “What the fuck?”
“They came outta nowhere.” The van didn’t immediately back off, so I had no doubt the hit hadn’t been an accident. “Looks like they’re trying to get our attention.”
“Well, they certainly got it.”
I pressed my foot against the accelerator as I asked him, “Can you get a good look at ‘em?”
“Nope.” Rooster leaned back for a better look. “They’re wearing fucking masks.”
“Ah, shit. It’s them.”
“Who?”
“The assholes who tried to fuck with our server.”
The van sped up and connected with my bumper once again, giving us another forceful nudge. I had no idea why, but these assholes were fucking determined to get us off the road.
And their plan was working.
The road to Danver’s was relatively straight and my Ford 150 was heavy duty, but with each hit, it was becoming harder and harder to keep from running into the ditch. “We’re gonna have to do something, or they’re gonna force us off the road.”
“Just try and keep her steady.” Rooster took his phone from his pocket as he said, “I’m gonna call Prez and let him know what’s going on.”
I nodded, then listened as Rooster said, “Hey, Prez. Me and Q are out on Pine Bluff headed toward Danver’s. We got ourselves a tail, and they’re working hard to run us off the road.”
There was a brief pause, then Rooster continued, “It’s an older black van, but I can’t tell much more than that. The windows are tinted, and the driver’s wearing a fucking mask. Can’t see shit.”
Rooster paused to listen once more, then said, “Better get here fast, Prez. Not sure how long we’ll be able to hold them off.”
Just as he ended the call, a car pulled out in front of us, forcing me to ease off the accelerator. Seconds later, the van plowed into us again—this time harder than before, and I was left with two choices: hit the lady in the Buick or take my chances with the ditch.
I couldn’t take a chance on hurting the woman, so I gave the steering wheel a hard pull and slammed on the brakes, sending Rooster and me straight for the ditch. One second there was ground beneath us, and then the next, we were in the air. Rolling. Turning. Flipping. I felt like a rag doll as my body was jostled back and forth.
The truck collided with the hard ground, and the airbags deployed, making it impossible to see. Not that it mattered. The truck had finally stopped and was resting on its side, leaving me and Rooster hanging by our seatbelts. Rooster had a cut above his brow but looked to be okay as he turned to me and said, “You alright?”