The only thing that mattered now was getting her back.And if a quarter of a million gold was what it took, then J.J.would win this race or die trying.
His mate was counting on him to be clever instead of just dangerous.
He wouldn't let her down.
Chapter Twelve
J.J.
New Mexico - Highway 40 East
J.J.had been driving for three hours since leaving Farrah behind in Arizona, and the partial bond between them was like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point.Every mile eastward made it worse—not painful exactly, but wrong in a way that made his teeth ache.
The CB had been quiet for the last hour, which in an illegal race usually meant bad news.J.J.reached for the radio, needing to hear that someone else was still out there, still racing, still free.
"This is Green Machine calling all teams.Anyone still out there?"
Static for a moment, then Torch's gravelly voice: "We're here, Green Machine About fifty miles behind you.Where's Witchy Woman?Haven't heard her sugar-coating our stupidity in a while."
The question made him sick to his stomach.J.J.gripped the radio harder, his massive fingers making the plastic creak."She got picked up.Grizz's son arrested her at a gas station outside Flagstaff."
The radio exploded with voices:
"Son of a—"
"Those bastards—"
"Is she okay?"
"She's..."J.J.paused.What could he say?That she was probably in custody somewhere, that she'd told him to abandon her for prize money, that he'd actually done it?"She told me to keep racing.Win the money."
Silence on the channel.The kind of silence that said everything.
Finally, the banshee's otherworldly voice came through, making the speakers whine: "The trolls are also captured."
"Yeah, I heard,” J.J.said. “Did they get anyone else?”