Page 47 of Shattered Veil
“It’s okay.” He squeezes my hand. “Quinlan, your heat’s registered?”
“This one is.”
“Pull over.”
Only, there’s a loud pop and the car swerves hard to the right. The last thing I see is the center median coming up in the windshield.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Balor
“Hold the fuck on,” Trace says, and swings the Rivian across three lanes with the cool air of a military pilot pulling the nose of an aircraft up out of a dive.
He cuts off several cars but manages to avoid hitting them. Then he pulls to a hard stop when we reach the right lane shoulder.
Ella shakes in my arms. “No. No, no.”
Kissing her forehead, I say, “Stay in the car. Do not get out.”
“Quinlan, out. You and me.” I push the door open, thankful I’m not on the roadside with traffic screaming by.
Trace and I strut to the back of the SUV to see my left rear tire is flat.
“I heard a pop,” he says to me. “I think they shot the tire.”
I study the dark blue cruiser withState Trooperprinted in yellow sitting a few car lengths behind us. I don’t see cameras.
Shaking my head, I say, “Okay. Get back inside the car. Lock the doors. Protect Ella. Whatever it takes, man.”
“Aye.” He spins around, obeying my command.
The light bar on top of the cruiser still flashes, but the trooper kills the sirens. The cop remains in the front seat, talking into his radio transmitter while looking straight ahead.
At me.
Ella’s ex is a cop.
They protect their own.
I don’t worry about facing a police officer in Astoria, but I’m not in Astoria right now. The trooper, in a solid black uniform and an enormous hat, gets out. He struts toward me with a baton dangling in his fingers.
“Something wrong, officer?” I ask.
He stops and tilts his head at my flat tire. “You got a blowout.”
“You had your lights on before the blowout. We weren’t speeding.”
“License and registration.”
“I wasn’t driving. My bodyguard was.”
His right cheek twitches. “Who the hell are you that you need a bodyguard?”
“Someone with enemies.” I cross my arms.
“I’d like to look at your vehicle.”
My heart pounds with rage. “Sure thing, but just an FYI, my bodyguard is carrying. He’s licensed.”