Page 71 of Shadowed Agenda

Chapter thirty-three

Therewasnowayof knowing if her plan had worked. A wave of despair rolled through Regan, but she pushed it aside. Now, she needed to survive so she could find her daughter.

Bob’s phone rang. He looked down. “It’s the garage owner.”

“He’s been paid,” the driver said. “He’s done what we asked. See what he wants.”

The man put the cell to his ear. His face grew hard, and his mouth tightened. “Thank you. We’ll take care of it.” He ended the call.

Regan didn’t move. Something was very wrong.

The driver glanced at his partner.

“They made it out of the car before it exploded.”

Regan sank into the leather seat. It worked. They were alive.

“How? I installed the unit under the front passenger seat. They couldn’t have seen it.” The driver looked into the rearview mirror. His eyes shifted in Regan’s direction. She sat perfectly still. They’d stop the car and frisk her if he suspected she had anything to do with this, and they’d find the cell phone.

“It doesn’t matter,” Bob growled, and the driver shifted his eyes back to the highway. “A bright yellow car picked them up. I’ll call the boss and let him know what happened. Our biker friends can take care of them. They’re not far behind us. They can turn around. The car should be easy to spot.”

The bikers. Snake and Beard. They were following the black sedan. An icy chill rolled down Regan’s back, and her pulse pounded erratically. The two men were as lethal as Pavlo and Drake. The only difference was they didn’t hide it under an elegant, cultured wrapping.

Pavlo and Drake weren’t the only ones in danger. The yellow car was Finlay’s. It was the only car they’d rent to her. Apparently, yellow wasn’t a popular color.

Regan couldn’t let Bob make that call. It would be their death warrant.

A plan formed in her mind. It wasn’t good. In fact, it was terrible, and it would likely kill her. But it was all she had. There was no other way to save the two people she loved.

Regan had to believe that Pavlo knew she loved him and would understand why this was the only way to save both him and Emmeline. She trusted him to find her baby and keep her safe and had to believe he wouldn’t fail. It was the only way she could go through with this.

She touched the spot on the blouse where her pendant lay hidden. Everything inside her screamed she needed to stay alive for Emmeline, but she knew the only way to save her child was to die.

Regan grinned and silently thanked her grandmother. If she was looking down on her right now, Regan knew she would be proud of her.

Regan took a deep breath and flung herself into the driver’s seat. She wrapped her hands around the driver’s head, covering his eyes, and shoved it into the headrest. She dug her fingers into his eyes and held on with every bit of strength she had in her.

His piercing scream filled the car—and then the world slowed down.

Time slowed to a crawl. It felt like she was in a slow-motion scene in an action movie, but Regan knew it was her brain’s reaction to danger. She’d read that somewhere.Slow-motion emotion.She heard herself giggle at the absurdness of her thoughts. She was about to die and was explaining a neurological condition to herself.

Three things happened simultaneously. Involuntary reactions Regan had counted on. The driver let go of the steering wheel. His foot pressed harder on the gas. Bob unlatched his seatbelt.

The driver clawed at her hands, but she wouldn’t let go. The car swerved onto the shoulder and into the trees bordering the highway. Regan looked up. An enormous tree raced toward them.

She let go of the driver, dropped onto the backseat, and grabbed the seatbelt. She heard a click and then Time resumed its normal pace. A deafening cacophony of destruction assaulted her as they hit the tree. The sound of shattering glass and twisting metal surrounded her. An eerie silence followed it. She wondered if she was dead.

Then the pain came. Her whole body pulsed in agony. A splitting headache that only a full bottle of painkiller would take away hammered in her head.

Nope, not dead.

Overwhelmed, she lay motionless across the soft leather seat.

Logical thought slowly returned—the bikers. Regan didn’t know how close they were. She couldn’t stay in the car.

Each limb ached as she moved it, but nothing was broken. The world tilted as she sat up. A few seconds later, it straightened. Nausea swirled in her stomach. She didn’t move, afraid she’d throw up. Thankfully, it eased off a bit.

Regan took a good look around her. The front of the car was wrapped around a huge white oak. She was lucky to be alive. She couldn’t say the same for the two guys in the front seat.