Page 112 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

"Mike, plate."

He rambles off the string of letters and numbers. He's still running, his breath coming in sharp bursts. "I'm going to… grab… electric scooter—wait. There's an hourly… rental car a block back."

"Get it."

I commit the plate number to memory, repeating it like a mantra as I crisscross the streets. Every black SUV I pass gets a split-second inspection, but none match. She's slipping away. Every minute, every second, Londyn is getting farther from me, being taken somewhere I might never find her.

My gut twists with a primal kind of desperation I've only felt once before, when I found Wunmi in that dressing room, the life seeping out of her while I tried desperately to hold it in.

That won't be Londyn.

I won't lose her, not when I've only just found her.

I realize, in this moment, she's the air I breathe.

I take a sharp left down Church Street, following an instinct I can't explain. It's like I can feel her, like there's a tether between us pulling me in the right direction. The street spills onto Chambers, and there it is: the black SUV with the exact plate, speeding through traffic like it has somewhere urgent to be.

Found you.

I gun the engine, closing the distance between us. The SUV is fast, but my bike is faster. I pull alongside it, trying to peer through the tinted windows, but can't make out anything beyond shadowy figures. I accelerate harder, cutting in front of the vehicle, risking a collision for a better angle.

Front windshields can't be legally tinted as dark as the side ones, so I glance over my shoulder as I pass. Though it's still difficult because it's nighttime, I can just make out Josh in the driver's seat. No passenger. Londyn must be in the back.

The SUV suddenly accelerates, nearly clipping my rear tire as it passes. Josh noticed me. He knows I'm not just another motorcyclist.

I twist the throttle all the way, bringing myself level with the driver's side window. With one hand gripping the handlebar, I reach for my gun. I aim it at the tinted glass. "Pull over."

Josh guns the gas and attempts to lose me. I give chase, coming level with the driver's side window again. I raise my gun, not sure I want to risk a shot that could crash the SUV. I don't know what kind of position Londyn is in or if she's even wearing a seat belt. Shooting Josh would stop the vehicle, but it could also throw the woman I love out the windshield.

I'm about to threaten Josh again to pull over when I spot a delivery truck ahead. It's backing out of a side street.Shit.

I drop back to avoid a collision, cursing as the SUV pulls ahead again. A rear window rolls down, and I see a flash of a man's face, older, with dark hair. His eyes lock with mine for a split second and raw hatred boils in my gut.

Alan Miller.

A gun appears, and a shot cracks through the air.

I swerve instinctively, the bullet missing me by inches. The SUV picks up speed, pulling away as I right myself and give chase. They're not getting away. Not with her.

Not a fucking chance.

I level my gun, aiming for the rear tire. It's a difficult shot—moving target, me on a motorcycle, other cars. But I've done harder things under worse conditions. And one popped tire shouldn't flip the vehicle, just slow it down.

I steady my breathing, letting muscle memory take over.

One shot. Two.

The third connects. The tire bursts with a satisfying pop, the SUV lurching to the right. Josh clips a parked car and fights to maintain control as the vehicle dips and the metal rim grinds against asphalt. A cascade of sparks trails behind them, but they keep moving, though slower now, more unstable.

"Update." Mike's voice crackles in my ear. "I've got a car. Where are you?"

I glance at the nearest street sign. "West on… Chambers, approaching West Broadway. They're heading toward the Holland Tunnel."

"On my way. Eight minutes."

Eight minutes and she could be gone. If they reach the tunnel entrance, make it onto Highway 78 toward Jersey City…

The SUV wobbles ahead of me, the damaged tire slowing but not stopping them. If I was in a car, this would be easier because I could ram into them and force them off the road. But in amotorcycle, I'll just get myself hurt. And I need to avoid an accident that could hurt Londyn.

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