“I’ve got to hand it to her, Jax. First her car, and now this? Savannah is a damn wild card.” Sam had a shit-eating-grin pasted on her face.
Did she actually like the red-headed monster? I growled and shot her a look. “Not now, Sam.”
Darkness seeped into my mind, and I tried not to break the steering wheel.
I told Savannah to go to the motel. I had people watching it. She would be safe. She said no.
Fine. I could adapt, so I’d redeployed those people to watch the Indies. Then she went to the motel.
One of us was going to be the death of the other.
Red brake lights filled the street ahead, so I veered into a back alley, swerving around a dumpster. A flash, followed by an explosion, echoed from the south.
“What the hell do they think they’re doing?” Regina yelled.
My phone rang again, and Sam answered it on speaker.
“Hello?” a man’s voice said. Savannah’s cousin. We had a mile-long dossier on the creep. “Where the hell are you guys? I knew you were slow, but come on.”
I tightened my grip on the wheel, wishing it were his neck.
“We’re right behind you, asshole,” said Sam. “We just heard the explosion. Pro tip: stop unleashing a firestorm on our town, or we’ll return the favor.”
“Message received. They turned right and we’re heading north on Razorback. Just passed Donahue’s Grill House. Hey, they opened one over here?”
“Casey, focus!” Savannah’s voice cut across the line.
“What are they driving?” I asked.
“Tan Oldsmobile. Looks like a real piece of shit. Maybe you should steal it and hold it for ransom in your shop,” her cousin said.
To my wolf, that man was just a mouthy steak with a bad attitude.
I gunned it down 64th Street. If my calculations were correct, we might be able to cut them off. Regina cursed as we sped through a red light, narrowly missing a collision with a Beamer.
Two blocks ahead was the Diagonal—our shortcut to intercept. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, distracting me from the anger that clawed in my chest. I had to put it aside for now. If we could catch one of the rogue wolves, it would solve most of our immediate problems. I’d beat the information out of them. We’d hunt down their allies. And once it was done, I would be mercifully free of Savannah Caine.
The truck careened right as we peeled through the intersection onto the Diagonal.
“Tell me where you are, Savannah,” I growled.
“This is Casey here. Savannah’s busy driving like a bat outta hell. We’re just passing 64th Street and Louie’s Strip Joint. That looks promising.”
Just where I needed them.
“Seatbelts on,” I sa
id as I shifted gears and hit the accelerator. Two blocks, and we’d be coming right up—
A tan Oldsmobile came into view as the lights in the six-way intersection turned red.
I hit the gas, and we rocketed forward. Shock crossed the face of the shifter in the passenger seat of the Oldsmobile just before my truck T-boned them.
The grating of metal was deafening, and I braced myself against the wheel. The Oldsmobile slid across the intersection sideways before stopping. Steam rose from the hood of the truck, but the grates on the front had absorbed most of the impact.
I sucked in air and felt around my neck. A broken clavicle.
I glanced over at Sam and Regina, who were smiling wildly. Sam popped her arm back in its socket and hopped out.