Page 58 of The Last Morgan
She gasped, rolling onto her side.
The car screeched to a halt a few feet ahead.
The driver’s door opened.
A figure stepped out, tugging off a black driving cap.
It was a woman.
Blonde hair, twisted into a tight braid. A cruel smile played across her lips.
"Hello, Lucy," she said casually, tossing the cap aside.
Lucy staggered to her feet, wiping blood off her arm.
"Rebecca, I presume," she said grimly. Over the still-open phone line, Byron, Corey, and Damian could hear every word.
Lucy barely registered the muffled swearing exploding at the other end.
Rebecca walked toward her slowly, like a predator savoring the moment.
"You have something I need," Rebecca said smoothly. "Oh yeah?" Lucy snapped back, adrenaline firing through her veins. "And what’s that?"
"The box" Rebecca said, voice hardening.
She took another slow step forward.
"The reports, everything belongs to us, and we want it back."
Lucy clenched her fists.
Rebecca smirked.
"You’re coming with me. It can be easy."
Lucy tilted her head, watching the woman's every move.
The blood dripping down her arm didn’t faze her now.
Lucy licked her split lip, tasting copper and rage.
"Well," Lucy said, planting her feet firmly on the cracked floor "I never liked anything easy."
And then she moved.
Rebecca lunged first, pulling something shiny and sharp from her belt.
Lucy ducked instinctively, years of training kicking in, and swept her leg low, trying to trip Rebecca.
But Rebecca was fast — faster than Lucy expected — and twisted mid-air to avoid the hit.
They circled each other like wolves.
"You really think you can take me down?" Rebecca sneered.
Lucy smiled back — bloody and defiant.
"I know I can."
