Sarah stood and got her unsteady legs under her. She swayed and fought to keep upright. Spencer peered over his shoulder at her. His chest heaved and he panted hard.
A gunshot sounded near Bryce and Kinnerk. Bryce backed away, gripping his gut. He fell back onto the floor, groaning and moaning.
Kinnerk set his sights on Spencer. His brow furrowed in rage. He trained his pistol at Spencer and fired a single round at the traitorous man.
Spencer threw his knife at Kinnerk as the lone bullet struck him in the shoulder.
Sarah ran for the French doors, seizing her opportunity to flee. Another report sounded from the living room. She flinched, stepped around the dead bodies, and felt a tug at her side as she passed through the doorway.
Her legs gave out on the sidewalk, sending her to the driveway. Sarah picked herself up and ran for the Chevelle. She skirted past the front end to the driver’s side. Her trembling hand fished the keys from her pants pocket as she opened the door.
She looked to the French doors, then dropped into the driver’s seat. Sarah pushed the key into the ignition and fired up the muscle car. She worked the clutch, shifted into gear, and punched the gas.
The Chevelle took off down the drive, skirting past the two black BMW’s parked on the side of the house. She drove in the grass, then pulled back onto the driveway.
Sarah looked at the rearview mirror while clutching her side. A stabbing, searing pain festered and grew with each second that ticked by. She didn’t spot anyone giving chase.
The Chevelle drifted toward the trees lining the long driveway. The pain in her side stole her attention. She glanced down at her shirt and spotted blood.
A large tree rushed up. Sarah jerked the steering wheel, but couldn’t steer clear of the thick trunk. The driver’s side bumper slammed the tree, bringing the muscle car to a dead stop.
Sarah hit the steering wheel, then deflated back into the seat. The horn blared. Smoke funneled through the vents and the open window. She coughed and grimaced. The pain in her side stole her breath.
The driver’s side door creaked open. Hands grabbed her arms and pulled her from the wreckage. She was placed on her back in the grass. The sun beaming through the opening canopy above hit her face, blinding her.
A figure loomed above her, cradling the back of her head in his gloved hand. He leaned in close.
Sarah’s eyes grew heavy with exhaustion and pain. She spotted the white on his face as his eyes peered deep into hers from under the mask.
“Don’t worry, Sarah,” Spencer said, worried. “I’m here, my love. You’re going to be all right. I’ve got you now, and nothing and nobody will stand in our way anymore.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RUSSELL
The room fell silent of any chatter. All of the armed thugs lingering about focused on Russell, and his friends. They moved in front of the doorway, blocking any sort of retreat from the drug lord’s apartment.
“I’m looking for someone, and hoped you might be able to help us in locating them,” Cathy said, favoring her injured leg.
Sandman rubbed his angular jaw, then stroked the neatly trimmed goatee as he nodded. “And who might it be that you’re looking for?”
“Shawn Evans,” Cathy answered. “My daughter, Amber, was last seen with him and a few of his friends at her apartment. I just need to know where he lives and anything else you might be able to tell me about him.”
“And why would I know anything about this Shawn Evans?” Sandman shot back, glancing at Gold Teeth for a split second.
Cathy peered at Russell, then back to the Sandman. “I was told that he works for you. That’s the only reason I’m here. I just want to find my daughter. I don’t want any trouble.”
Sandman looked at Max and stopped. He eyed the on-guard German shepherd who growled low under his breath, watching the drug lord’s every move.
“Beautiful dog. What’s his name?” he asked.
“Max,” Cathy answered, running her fingers over his back.
“I do like German shepherds. They are fantastic dogs. Extremely protective.” Sandman reached his hand out to the canine’s head.
Max flashed his fangs and lowered his ears. The growling increased the closer the man’s long, skeletal fingers drew toward him.
Cathy calmed Max, whispering in a soft tone.
He sat on his haunches by her side and kept his sights fixed on the lanky man before him.
Sandman paused, pulled his hand back, then peered at Cathy. “You have trained him well. Seems that he knows who his master is.”
“He does.” Cathy sighed a bit under her breath. “Any information on Shawn Evans you can share with us will be appreciated.”
“Have you not gone to the police about this?” Sandman asked, staring at them. “Were they unwilling to help you?”
“We came here after leaving her apartment,” Russell said. “Given the current state of things in the city, the police more than have their hands full.”
The men flanking Clyde took a step toward him. Russell peered over his shoulder at the rag tag bunch of hoodlums who repositioned their holds on their various weapons. They stared at him with stern, emotionless gazes. He gulped, then faced forward.
This is just getting better and better.
“I do know where Mr. Evans resides and I also know of your daughter, Amber,” Sandman replied, looking at Cathy.
Her eyes enlarged and the pain gripping her body melted away in that moment. “You do? So, you know where she is?”
“I do. She’s close,” Sandman answered, looking at the east side of the apartment. “Really close, in fact.”
Cathy breathed a sigh of relief.
