Adrenaline Rush (Death Chasers MC 4)

Glad he did it.

“I’m a good driver,” Sarah says, cursing as she runs all over the road, trying to get a handle on the semi-out-of-control van that hasn’t recovered from the stomp-attack. “I’m just used to a car that handles better than this.”

“Why are you driving a clown van?” I ask as I screw my eyes shut.

Nope. That makes it worse. Every swerve or bump we hit on this van’s horrible shocks feels worse than it actually is.

“It’s a long story, but the short version is that mine blew up, and I haven’t replaced it with something more permanent than this just yet. Besides, who thinks to look for me in this ridiculous thing? People kept finding me in my car. Dad knows I’m coming for him,” she says like this is common knowledge.

“For the record, you girls really need to get some emotional distance from your fathers. I think this desperate revenge thing is a little played out when there’s two of you doing it at once,” Drake says from the back seat.

“I don’t want revenge. I want him dead,” Sarah and I both say at the same time, making it sound practiced and planned.

We both look at each other during a beat of silence.

“Watch the fucking road!” Drake shouts from the back as Maya squeals.

We both jerk our heads back to the front, while I reel from relating to this freaking woman.

My breath comes out in a rush, and my right hand slams to the roof, just as the seatbelt catches me so hard it knocks the breath out of me.

Sarah has hit the brakes hard, and it isn’t until the entire van comes to a screeching halt that I see why.

Up ahead, at least a hundred yards up, there’s a barricade.

Five cars are blocking the road, and two men are standing up front with guns aimed directly at us.

“I saw a coyote. Not the fucking men-in-black army. I don’t suppose anyone is hiding tentacles up their skirts and those guys are going to erase my memory so I never remember you again, huh?” Drake babbles from the backseat. “Because that sounds awesome. One flash of light, and this all goes away like a bad dream that never happened.”

“Can we outrun them?” Maya asks.

“No, because there’s a convoy of black SUVs heading this way from the back,” Drake groans.

Through the colorfully polka-dotted back glass, I spot the convoy he’s talking about.

“Call your boyfriend,” Drake tells Maya, reaching over and slapping her knee.

“Three of them. Big fucking convoy. I’m not calling him to his death,” she hisses, slapping his hand back at him.

“Speak for yourself. Those fuckers get me shot at all the time. They owe me by this point,” Drake snaps.

Sarah cocks a pistol, while grabbing another, uniquely altered gun from under the seat.

“I’ve got this,” she says like it’s a wasp to hit with a flyswatter.

One of the cars pulls around, and a window slowly lowers as a very large war-freaking-head pops out.

“Is that a motherfucking bazooka?!” Drake snaps. “Ah, hell no! I didn’t sign up for this shit!”

“I don’t got this,” Sarah says as she drops her guns and raises her hands. “They clearly plan to take me alive. When I step out of this van, hit the blue button,” she says like I’m supposed to know where the blue button is.

“Driver, reach both hands through the window, open the door with your left hand, and step out with your hands in plain sight above your head!”

She slowly does as instructed, as Drake curses and rocks around in the backseat.

“My ex told me this club would get me killed if I wasn’t a member. Seemed smart to just make friends with the bad guys instead of being one,” Drake goes on, still babbling like it’s a nervous habit. “My life looks a lot different when it’s flashing before my eyes. I feel sort of naïve, and it sucks.”

“Would you shut up before I shoot you myself?” Maya whisper-yells.

“I’d already be dead if they didn’t want me alive. The ones who get an easy shot at killing me are always arrogant enough to take me alive. However, once they have me, you’re all dead. So…I’ll distract them after you hit the blue button. You find a way to steal a ride,” Sarah says like it’s a piece of pumpkin cake, and we’ve somehow discussed the details of how to make this really stupid, vague plan work out.

“Are you out of your mind?” Drake hisses.

“Are you really asking her that question?” I bite out.

He blinks at me like he’s just realized his own error. “Fucking hell. We’re all going to die,” he deadpans.

I nod, since he’s probably right. Still, I cut my eyes back around, emotions shutting down as I study the one small, blue button on the old radio system.