Chapter 18
AVERY’S POV:
51%
+5
My gaze dropped to the black loafers placed at the foot of the bed. Functional, basic–just another part of my life that screamed, “borrowed.” Sliding them on, I winced as the stiff leather rubbed against the bruises and cuts on my feet. Every step I took hurt.
The loud knock on the door startled me before I could investigate the tattoo any further. The two officers were impatiently asking me to come with them. They barely gave me time to gather my drugs before ushering me out of the room.
The hospital corridor felt like a tunnel, narrow and endless as we walked toward the exit. Outside, a gray police car waited by the curb. One officer, the taller of the two, pulled the back door open for me.
“Right this way, ma’am,” he instructed.
hesitated. Something about them didn’t sit right with me. Call it paranoia or the instincts I’d sharpened during three years behind bars, but I’d seen enough officers to know how they carried themselves. These two weren’t it.
Their badges lacked the usual polish–scuffed and dull, like knockoffs you’d buy for a Halloween costume. Worse, there were no name tags or badge numbers, a glaring omission. Real officers always had some form of identification, even when undercover. Their uniforms seemed…off too. The stitching was uneven, the fabric thinner than regulation gear. It was like they were playing dress–up, and they’d done a poor job of it.
“I didn’t quite catch your names, officers. I bet you have cool names,” I teased.
“Ma’am, we’re not here to get to know each other. Just get in the car,” angry–bird–shorty’s face darkened as he
“But I need to know your names,” I pushed.
He didn’t respond anymore, Just stood silently next to the taller officer.
“Don’t make our job harder than it is already,” the tall one said.
commanded.
Still, before my spinning mind could connect all the dots, I found myself sliding into the backseat. It was a reckless mistake, one I shouldn’t have made, given all the warning signs.
The shorter one joined me, while the taller officer got behind the wheel. The door locks clicked, trapping me.
“Where are we headed?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral.
“To the station,” the taller one curtly replied.
I leaned back, feigning ease. “Which station? You didn’t say
The shorter officer’s gaze went to his partner in the front seat, a moment of hesitation I didn’t miss.
“Central precinct,” he answered quickly, too quickly.
The central precinct wasn’t far from the hospital, yet,we’d already taken two wrong turns. My heart started racing, and I felt a knot in my chest, but I tried to keep a cool face and not let my panic show.
I decided to push further. “Funny. This doesn’t look like the route to Central. Are you taking a detour?”
The taller one’s
ip on the wheel tightened. “Sit back and relax, ma’am. We’ll get there soon enough.”
Red flags were flying all over the place. I tried a different tactic, leaning forward slightly with a sheepish smile. “I hate to be a bother, but I really need to use the restroom. Can we stop at the next gas station?”
“Forget it,” the shorter one snapped. “We’ve already blown enough time. You’ll have to hold it until we get to the precinct.”
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Chapter 18
“But it’s an emergency-”
“We’re not stopping,” the driver cut me off. You could hear the EE
e irritation in his voice.
I switched gears, deliberately steering the conversation in a new direction, all while racking my brain for a plan – and subtly pushing their buttons in the process. “Okay, but why’d you lock the doors? The standard protocol doesn’t require that unless the passenger is dangerous. Do I look dangerous to you?”
Neither answered. Instead, the car sped up, and my unease turned to fear because this wasn’t going to end well.
“Think, Avery. Think,” I pressured myself.
I settled back in my seat, exhaling loudly, trying to seem relaxed. I needed them off guard, convinced I wasn’t a threat.
The car hit a stretch of open highway, and I made my move. Without warning, I turned to the man beside me and swung my fist as hard as I could into his face. The crunch of contact reverberated through my arm, and he let out a startled grunt, clutching his nose.
“What the-?!”
The driver twisted around to see what was happening, and I lunged forward, clawing at his arm. The car swerved violently as he fought to regain control, the tires screeching against the pavement.
“Stop her!” the driver yelled.
The shorter one recovered faster than I’d hoped, grabbing my wrist and twisting it painfully. I yelped, but adrenaline drowned out the pain. I slammed my knee into his ribs, and he gasped, releasing me just enough for me to reach for the wheel.
I knew I had to fight, no matter the cost, because my gut feeling screamed that if I fell into their hands and I had no doubt whose hands they were – I’d be begging for death.
The car jerked again, veering toward the edge of the highway. “Let go!” the driver shouted, his voice panicked as he wrestled with me for control.
“Pull over!” I screamed, my fingers digging into his forearm.
He didn’t. Instead, the car hit the shoulder, the rough terrain jarring us as we skidded toward a ditch.
The next few seconds blurred into chaos.
The car tipped, then rolled. Gravity vanished as we flipped, metal crunching and glass shattering with each violent rotation. My body was tossed like a ragdoll, the seatbelt digging into my chest as the world spun around me.
Then, silence.
The car settled upside down. The only sound I could hear was the soft ping of the engine cooling. Blood dripped from my forehead, warm and sticky, blinding my vision.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.
Darkness crept in, pulling me under.
Was this it? Was this how it all ended when I hadn’t even started?
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