“I’m not getting in your freaking car,” I screeched, shoving at his chest, needing to scream.
Cletus flinched, visibly startled by my outburst, but the very next moment he stepped into my space, bent his mouth to my ear, and said, “We are being watched by seven members of the Iron Wraiths—don’t look! They’re two rows over and behind me. I have just assaulted one of their brethren. You need to get in this car before Twilight emerges with his rearranged face or Tina screams bloody murder. I’m not going to force you to get in the car, but there’s no way I’m leaving you here.”
Sobering dread cut through my cloud of anger and my hands automatically lifted to Cletus’s arms, the feel of his solid strength beneath my fingertips reassuring.
He leaned a few inches away and glared down at me, his eyebrows raised just slightly. I could almost hear his voice in my head saying, “Get in the fucking car right goddamn now. Please.”
Without another word, I slid into the passenger seat and shut the door after me, hastily fastening my seatbelt. The urge to look at the bikers was strong, but I didn’t. Instead, I kept my eyes studiously affixed to the dashboard as Cletus rounded the back and entered the driver’s side.
He turned the engine, placed it in reverse, and pulled out of the spot like nothing was amiss. But then I heard a scream. Fright had me sucking in the breath as Tina Patterson’s form emerged from the grocery store and pointed at us.
“Get him! He knocked out Twilight! He’s taking his sister,” she bellowed, waving her arms.
Unable to help myself, I twisted in my seat and—to my horror—watched as the fleet of bikers glanced between Tina and us. Her words sunk in, spurring them into motion.
“Hold on.” Cletus peeled out of the parking lot, no need for clandestine maneuvers at this point, and set off at neck-breaking speed down the main thoroughfare. I did as instructed and held on to the door and the back of the bench, relieved I’d already buckled my seatbelt.
His car was fast, but it was big. And the bikers were more nimble on their motorcycles. Several cut across the lot, chasing at a diagonal when Cletus was forced to take a turn. Two were almost directly behind us, the others some distance back.
“My phone is in the glove compartment. I want you to call Duane and put him on speaker.” Given the situation, Cletus’s voice was remarkably calm. He split his attention between the rearview mirror and the road ahead.
With irritatingly shaking fingers, I fumbled for his phone.
“The password is one, zero, one, zero.”
I nodded, quickly typing it in, navigating to Duane in his contacts, and highlighting the speaker button.
The phone rang and I searched behind us. The two bikers hadn’t come any closer, because Cletus was driving like a maniac, still accelerating while he weaved through the sparse traffic.
“What’s up?” Duane answered on the third ring.
“Are you at the house?”
Duane hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’m nearby.”
“How close?”
“Real close.”
“Listen to me. I have seven Wraiths on my tail, I can’t tell you why right now. I need your help.”
“Anything.” Duane didn’t hesitate, but his tone held an odd edge that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight.
“My keys for the Buick are in the top drawer of my side table. Take the Buick to the end of the driveway, leave the lights off, and wait for me to drive by the house. I’m in its twin and will be there in approximately five minutes. After I drive past, pull onto Moth Run and turn on your lights. I’ll cut mine and take the side road behind the house. You lead them away.”
“Where do you want me to take them?”
“Lead these gentleman to the police station and get out of the car, so they can see they’ve lost me. They’ll back off when they see it’s you and where you are.”
“Or I could take them on a goose chase.”
“No. If they catch up, it won’t be good.”
“They won’t catch me.” Duane made a scoffing sound.
“Duane, just do as I say.” Cletus reached over and ended the call.
I gripped his phone and glanced anxiously at my side mirror. I didn’t say anything, because Cletus could likely see for himself, but one of the bikers was almost flanking my side. It was so dark, and I couldn’t decipher what the man was doing. He might’ve had a gun.
The next several minutes were terrifying, but I remained quiet, not wanting to distract him from what he needed to do. My heart was beating in triple time when the Winston place came into view, set back from the road and lit up like an old, stately mansion. The end of the driveway was dark, but I knew Duane would be there.