Run To Rome

Halli slammed the rear passenger door as he slid behind the wheel. He’d left the keys in the ignition, so a twist of his wrist brought the engine to life. The left side mirror revealed a miracle break in traffic and the running approach of the sidewalk gunman with the scratched face.

The image shattered in a flurry of glass.

“Hang on and stay down!”

Trent jammed the car in gear, wrenched the wheel and stomped on the gas. Noise bombarded him from all sides. Blaring horns. Squealing tires. Rachel’s harsh breathing laced with sobs. Halli’s low voice attempting to reassure her sister. His own pulse pounding in his ears.

He drove. Down the block, hard right, quick left, and keep on going. The review mirror offered some relief. Thank God no one followed. He wasn’t up to a second car chase in as many days. Especially since he was completely out of bullets.

“What are we going to do?”

Halli’s shrill question rang out from the back. Trent didn’t answer. He had no clue.

“Trent, she’s bleeding bad.” She sounded on the verge of panic. “We have to get her to a hospital.”

He reached up until Rachel’s pale face filled the review mirror. Christ. He’d known something like this was possible, but hadn’t prepared mentally. He dragged the windbreaker from his waist and tossed it over the seat.

“Do what you can to stop the bleeding. Where was she hit?”

“There’s too much blood. I can’t tell.”

“My leg,” Rachel gasped. “But Ben—” An anguished cry ripped from her throat. “Oh, God, Ben.”

Halli’s trembling hands froze, her heart lodged in her throat. “What about Ben?”

“They said they’d kill him if I didn’t do exactly what they said.” Rachel buried her face in her hands, her entire body wracked by fresh sobs.

A conflicting surge of relief that he was still okay and a stab of alarm that he might not be for long ripped through Halli. She thrust one jacket sleeve under Rachel’s leg and knotted it with the other just above the torn fabric of her pants. Rachel bit off a scream with a sucked in breath.

“Sorry.” Still, Halli yanked on the knot. It couldn’t be helped. It had to be tight, to act like a tourniquet and stem the flow of blood.

“We need to call Ben’s phone now,” Halli told Trent as she folded the bulky part of the jacket over the welling wound. “Before they do something to him.”

“He told me to go.” Rachel said.

She collapsed against the back seat with a cry when Halli pressed hard on her leg. At first Halli thought she’d passed out, but she took shallow breaths, speaking in between.

“Said not to worry about him…to run with you. We almost escaped…this morning. But I twisted my ankle…” Fresh tears streamed down her face.

“It’s okay,” Halli reassured her. “We’ve got a plan.”

A plan that wasn’t going the way it was supposed to. Still pressing down with her left hand, Halli used her other hand to brush the tangled strands of blond hair from Rachel’s face. Tears stung her own eyes as she gazed at her sister’s pale, pain-pinched features.

“We’re going to get him back,” she vowed.

Rachel simply closed her eyes and let her head rest against the seat.

“How’s her leg?” Trent asked.

Halli lifted the compress for a quick look before meeting his somber gaze in the review mirror. “The jacket helped. The bleeding’s slowed a lot.”

“Good. I’ll pull over to make the call as soon as we’re out of the city. We’ll be no help to your brother if those guys catch up with us. I’m out of ammo.”

Halli nodded. She couldn’t argue his reasoning no matter how desperate she was to secure Ben’s safety or get help for Rachel.

“A hospital is out of the question right now anyway,” he continued. “That’s the first place they’d look.”

Rachel’s lashes fluttered, then opened to stare at the back of Trent’s head. “Is that really Trent Tomlin?” she whispered.