"Elaine," Zane snapped. "Stay with me! Fuck."
I forced my head up, breath coming fast and uneven. My fingers were locked tight around the gun in my lap, knuckles white, hands trembling so badly I was afraid I'd drop it.
Zane reached for his phone without taking his eyes off the road.
"Route Seven," he said into it. Nothing else, no greetings and no explanation.
He ended the call and tossed the phone onto the console.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It means we stop running in about two minutes."
That should have comforted me.
It didn't.
Another shot cracked the air, close enough that I felt it more than heard it. The car jolted as something hit the side panel. Where the hell were the cops when you needed them?, someone most definitely would have alerted them with this many gunshots.
The SUV on our left surged forward, aligning with my window. I saw the outline of a man inside, arm lifting.
"Elaine," Zane said sharply. "I need you to listen to me."
I looked at him.
"Shoot the tire."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"Rear tire. Low. You don't need to aim at the person."
"I can't..."
Another shot rang out, the sound deafening inside the car. I screamed again, panic clawing up my throat.
"Elaine," he said, louder now. "If you don't, we wont make it."
My hands shook violently as I raised the gun, the weight of it suddenly unbearable. Time stretched thin, elastic, every second dragging.
I saw Ivy's face in my head. Lucas's. My grandfather's study. Piano lessons I'd skipped that morning.
I swallowed hard.
Just the tire, I told myself. Just the tire.
I leaned out just enough, bracing myself against the door, heart hammering so loudly it drowned out everything else.
I fired.
The sound tore through me. The recoil jolted my arm back painfully, the force rattling my bones.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then the SUV's rear tire blew.
The car swerved violently, clipping the curb before spinning out of control. Metal screamed against asphalt. Another vehicle behind it slammed on its brakes, chaos erupting in the rearview mirror.
I collapsed back into the seat, gasping, the gun slipping from my fingers and clattering onto the floor.
"Oh my God," I whispered. "Oh my God."
My entire body was shaking now. I pressed my hands to my face, trying not to sob.
Zane didn't look at me.
But he nodded once.
"Good job," he said.
Headlights appeared ahead.
Not chasing. Approaching
Three black vehicles surged into view from a side street, moving with terrifying precision. They cut in cleanly, boxing the remaining attackers in before they could react.
Gunfire erupted again, louder this time, sharper. I flinched, curling inward as Zane took a hard turn, leaving the violence behind us.
I peeked through the mirror.
The scene behind us was brutal. Zane's people didn't hesitate. They ended things quickly and moved on.
My stomach twisted.
Zane turned sharply onto a narrow service road I'd never noticed before, the city changing around us. The buildings thinned. The lights dimmed. The noise fell away like it had never existed.
We drove in silence for a long moment.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. True Lucas thought me to use a gun I just never realized they would one day be need for me to use it like this.
"You okay?" he asked finally.