Page 76 of The Scenic Route
When Trey broke through the trees into a clearing and sprinted for the perimeter fence, Bennett allowed himself to grin. This was it. He sped up, lengthening his strides until he was just a few feet behind Trey. Glancing over his shoulder, Trey gave a panicked yelp before sprinting faster, obviously hoping to reach the fence before Bennett could catch him.
A motion-sensor light flashed on, bright as the sun, and Trey put on the brakes, coming to a screeching halt. Momentarily blinded, Bennett didn’t see the man in front of him had stoppeduntil he crashed into him, sending both of them to the ground. Taking advantage of the situation, Bennett immediately grabbed Trey’s wrists and secured them behind him with a zip tie, going more by feel than anything, since white spots still covered his vision. By the time he had Trey hog-tied just like Kelsey, his eyes had adjusted, and he was able to see clearly.
Straightening, he wondered where Felicity was. He’d half expected her to be right behind him after she’d secured Dino with his cuffs. As fast as she was, she would’ve had no problem catching up to these two slow yahoos. Pulling out his phone, he tried calling her, but it went to voicemail. Next, he tried Callum.
“Watched you take down the guy just now on the monitor—nice job. Got the other one secured?” Callum asked as soon as he answered.
“Yeah. Felicity?”
“Disabling the van, just in case you let one of them get past you.”
Bennett grinned. Of course she was. “Rory got eyes on her?”
Callum relayed the question, and there was a muffled response. “Rory last saw a glimpse of her a minute ago at the gate, but—and this is a quote from Lou—‘your wife is pretty sneaky.’”
The glow of pride he felt—both because she was indeed sneaky and because she was his wife—was doused by a pang of worry. “Where’s the van?”
“In the trees next to the main gate.”
“Quickest route?”
Callum again consulted Rory and then reported back.“Follow the fence to the next gate. There’s a golf cart parked there. Take it and keep following the fence to the main gate. We’ll let you know if we spot her.”
Bennett gave an acknowledging grunt, already running along the fence as he ended the call. A curdled feeling in his gut warned him that something was wrong. It would’ve only taken a few seconds for her to disable the van, and then she would’ve found Bennett. Despite the short length of their relationship, he knew his wife—his brave, beautiful, incredible wife. If she wasn’t with him, watching his back, there was something preventing her from fighting by his side.
His fear for Felicity built as he swung into the golf cart. It wasn’t the fastest mode of transport, but it was quiet—just an electric whir—and it did beat his best sprinting speed, especially when he pushed down on the accelerator and discovered that Rory had made a few alterations. Zipping along at a solid twenty-five miles an hour, the cart carried him toward the main gate as his apprehension grew. The night wind blew over him, whistling by his ears and making it hard to hear anything else. He pressed harder on the accelerator, even though he knew he’d already maxed out the speed.
The fence posts whipped by, and he finally saw the open main gate ahead. Peering through the trees, he searched for any sign of the van or Felicity, but the trees and brush were packed too closely together, and his vision was hampered by the lights on the security fence next to him.
Suddenly, a gas engine roared to life on the other side of the fence. Bennett’s heart took off at a gallop as his lips tightenedinto a straight line and a pulse throbbed in his jaw. Immediately, he knew in his gut that she was in that van, and he tried to wring a bit more speed out of the straining golf cart.
Barely slowing as he reached the gate, he turned the cart, the small, fat wheels sending out a spray of gravel. It fishtailed as he fought to straighten it, the boxy body not made to go the speeds Rory had rigged it up for. The van shot forward, angling toward the driveway. Without headlights or any interior illumination, it looked like a dark beast, a blocky dragon bursting from the trees and barreling down the drive.
Wishing for his SUV—or any actualcar—he grimly set his gaze on the back of the van and pushed the golf cart to its top speed.
***
Felicity was already regretting her decision not to fight back immediately, and the van hadn’t even gone a block. Telling herself there was nothing she could do about it now, she carefully sat up to spare her poor bruised hands. After checking to make sure neither man in the front was watching her, she scooted her way closer to the back of Clint’s seat, feet first.
“What’s that?” Finn grumbled, looking in his side mirror.
“What?” Clint was instantly alert.
“Something’s behind us, but it’s too small to be a car. Deer, maybe?” Finn rolled down his window so he could crane his head out and look behind him. There was a loudcrackof a gunshot, and Finn yanked his head back inside the van, swearing and flattening his hand over his ear. When he released it topull a black handgun out of the glove compartment, Felicity saw the dark gleam she assumed was blood streaking down the right side of his neck.
“Deer don’t shoot guns,” Clint said grimly, and the van engine roared as it sped up.
“Slow down.” Finn moved to lean out the window again, this time with the gun, but hesitated, making Felicity smirk. She wasn’t sure who was following them, but her money was on Bennett. “He’s dropping back too far behind us. I want to take him out.” From his bitter tone, he’d been rather fond of his now-mutilated ear.
Not liking the idea of Finn shooting at Bennett, much less “taking him out,” she carefully shifted until she was behind his seat. Despite the amount of adrenaline flowing through her, her head still throbbed with pain, making it hard to come up with a coherent plan.
The van slowed, and Finn leaned out the window, aiming behind them. In her new position, Felicity saw the moonlight reflect off his teeth as he smiled in anticipation. “Come closer, you asshole,” he muttered, and Clint let the van slow even more. “Closer…” His smile widened as he braced his right elbow on the seat back, steadying his grip as his finger settled gently on the trigger.
Nope. Not on my watch.Felicity slid her leg between his seat and the door, using her heel to press the seat lever as she leaned back, ignoring the pain when her bound hands pressed against the van floor. The seat back reclined completely, almost smacking her in the face. A yelp from Finn made her hopeful, butthen the gun fired, and she could only hope that her maneuver worked to throw off his aim.
Without pausing, she pushed off the base of the seat, ignoring the carpet burning her hands as she shoved herself clear of the reclined seat. Rolling to her feet but staying low, she saw Finn had recovered and was turning toward her, his teeth bared and the gun in his grip.
Hunched over so she didn’t bump her already aching head on the ceiling, Felicity kicked him twice in quick succession—first his face and then, when his head was knocked back, the wrist of his right hand. The gun went off again as it flew from Finn’s hand, and Clint roared, but Felicity was too focused on Finn to check whether he’d been hit or was just enraged that she was fighting back.
