Page 106 of Taken Off Camera
Five precious minutes later, I sit behind the wheel of an SUV. The earpiece sits snug in my ear, Gabriel coming through with crystal clarity as he runs a final check.
“We’re locked and loaded. Trackers are active on the vehicle and on you. Say something.”
I touch the earpiece. “I can hear you.”
“Good.” Sebastian stares at me from the silver sedan in the spot next to mine. “We’ll be right behind you, Micah. Promise me you won’t try to be a hero.”
Unsure if I can keep that promise, I tap the communication button once for yes and start the engine.
As I pull away from Rockford Manor, the gravity of what I’m doing settles over me. I’m driving straight into a trap set by the man who’s been stalking me, aman who’s already proven he’s willing to hurt the people I love.
But Saint would do the same for me. Has done the same, more times than I can count.
The earpiece crackles to life with Sebastian’s reassurance. “We’ve got you, Micah. Every step of the way.”
I just hope he’s right.
The SUV’s engine purrs beneath me as I navigate the winding road down from Skyhaven, each curve taking me farther from safety and closer to Travis. Streetlights flash across the dashboard in rhythmic patterns, counting down the minutes until I reach the coffee shop.
My palms leave damp prints on the leather steering wheel as Sebastian speaks into my ear, steady despite the fear I hear underneath his words. “Traffic cameras show clear roads all the way to Brickwell. How are you holding up?”
Not trusting myself to speak, I tap the communication button once. The clock on the dashboard reads eleven forty-seven. Eighteen minutes until Travis’s deadline, and I still have to pass through three cities to get to Brickwell and find parking.
The road stretches empty before me, a black ribbon winding down the hillside between themansions of Skyhaven and the historic district of Rockhaven.
“There’s so much empty space,” I murmur, tapping the comm button. “Once we hit Brickwell, you’ll stand out if there’s no traffic, even with the distance between us.”
“We’ve thought of that,” Gabriel says. “We’ve got three more vehicles converging from different directions. By the time you reach the coffee shop, we’ll have a full surveillance perimeter.”
The plan should reassure me, but my stomach twists tighter with each mile marker. Saint’s pained cry echoes in my memory, driving me forward even as every instinct screams to turn back.
The lights of Rockhaven appear ahead, historical buildings illuminated by antique streetlamps that cast warm pools on the cobblestone streets. I ease off the accelerator as the speed limit drops, the SUV slowing to a respectable crawl through the sleeping district.
“Twelve minutes to destination,” Sebastian reports. “We’ll start distancing now, but we’ll keep you in sight. When you go inside the coffee shop, don’t look for us. Act normal.”
A laugh bubbles up my throat, tinged with hysteria. Normal. As if anything about this situation could be normal.
The road widens as I pass through Rockhaven, transitioning to a four-lane street that will carry me down to Ashford Heights, and from there, to Brickwell.
A cross street appears ahead, dark except for a single blinking yellow traffic light. I check the rearview mirror, catching the glow of headlights as Sebastian and Gabriel keep pace as promised.
Then, an engine roars to life, tires squealing on pavement. My head whips toward the cross street as a massive pickup truck barrels through the intersection, its headlights momentarily blinding me. I’m already through the intersection, but?—
“Sebastian!” I scream, slamming on my brakes as the truck barrels toward the silver sedan following at a safe distance behind me. “Truck! Cross street!”
The sound of impact hits me like a physical blow, metal screaming on metal, glass shattering, and a horrific crunch that echoes through the silent night. Through my rearview mirror, I watch in frozen horror as Sebastian’s sedan crumples beneath the force of the collision, spinning across the intersection before coming to rest against a stone wall.
“Sebastian!” Panicking, I punch the comm button. “Gabriel! Can you hear me?”
Silence fills my ear, broken only by the faintcrackle of static. Please just be unconscious. Please still be breathing.
I wrench the SUV into park and fling open the door, my feet hitting pavement before my brain registers movement. The distance between our vehicles stretches endlessly as I run, lungs burning, heart hammering.
The sedan’s front end has collapsed inward, steam hissing from beneath the crumpled hood. The driver’s side door bears the brunt of the impact, metal folded in ways it was never designed to bend. Through the spiderweb of cracks in the windshield, I catch glimpses of Sebastian slumped forward, unmoving, his head resting on the deployed airbag.
“Sebastian!” I reach the car, hands scrabbling at the door handle that refuses to budge. “Gabriel! Can you hear me?”
Gabriel’s form is visible through the passenger window, his head tilted to the side, blood trailing down his temple and cheek. Neither man responds to my cries, and their stillness terrifies me.
