Chapter 7 - The Truth About Elena
The car behind us was black, no lights until it was almost on our bumper. Then the high beams kicked on.
Marcus swerved. “Hold on.”
He took the next exit too fast. The Audi fishtailed. We hit a side street lined with warehouses.
The black car stayed with us.
Marcus’s voice was tight. “Elena wasn’t just running from them. She was working with them. At first.”
“What?”
“She needed money. After your business tanked last year. They offered her a job. Courier work. Simple. Then it wasn’t simple anymore. She got in too deep and tried to buy her way out with that drive.”
I felt sick. “You’re saying my wife was a criminal.”
“I’m saying she was desperate. And she loved you. She just didn’t know how to fix what she broke.”
The black car rammed us from behind. The Audi lurched. Marcus fought the wheel.
I turned in the seat, aimed through the shattered rear window, and fired the last round. The black car’s windshield starred. It dropped back for a second.
Marcus took a hard left into an alley. We killed the lights and sat in the dark, engines off, breathing hard.
No one spoke for a full minute.
“Where’s Tyler right now?” I asked.
Marcus’s voice was quiet. “I don’t know. But the rail yard is real. It’s where they do exchanges.”
I looked at the hard drive in my hand. Small. Black. Worth more than my wife’s life, apparently.
And maybe my son’s.
Marcus reached under his seat and pulled out a second pistol. He held it out to me.
“You’re gonna need more than one bullet.”
I took it.
Outside, somewhere in the dark, an engine idled.
May you like
They’d found us again.
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