Page 74 of Coast

Twenty more yards.

Ten.

Five.

I bleeped the locks.

Then flew at the passenger seat just behind the driver, ripping the door open, throwing us inside, slamming it, and bleeping the locks.

I didn’t look.

I couldn’t.

I just dropped a now-screaming Lainey into her seat.

My hands were shaking so hard that I was having trouble pushing her clasp into place, then shoving the metal clips into the buckle.

The car lurched as one of the men reached for the door so hard that the car jostled.

I wasn’t proud of the noise that escaped me then—half cry, half scream.

There was no time to tighten Lainey’s buckles down.

But if this was going to end in some sort of high-speed chase—and possible accident—I couldn’t risknottightening her.

As I fumbled with that, the damn keys slid off my finger, clattering down into the wheel well.

“Damnit,” I whimpered, leaning down, feeling around in the dark, my stomach sloshing so hard I was sure I’d be sick all over them before I grabbed them.

A hand slammed into the window.

Once.

Twice.

Five times.

“Stop, stop, stop,” I whimpered.

My fingers finally closed around the chain.

Grabbing it, I crawled between the center console, dropping down into the driver’s seat and stabbing the key into the ignition.

“Get the fucking car,” I heard the man yell from right outside my window.

I saw a flash of metal, and my heart sank as I threw the car into reverse, knowing this was the end, that it was a gun, that he was going to shoot me right through the window, kill me right in front of my daughter.

Something slammed into the corner of the window, making it spiderweb crack.

A cry escaped me as I slammed my foot into the gas.

The car shook wildly as I went up onto the curb, then the sidewalk.

“Shh. Shh,” I called to Lainey, whose blood-curdling screams were making it hard to think, to focus.

My whole body was shaking as my sweaty hand shifted back into drive.

And then there he was.

---