Chapter 8

ABU DHABI, UAE

Davis was officially worried.

Something wasn't right. He'd called Hollyn several times since arriving back at her place, and it still kept going to voicemail. Gripping the counter, he ran through his options. Should have insisted that she share her location with him.

To his right, Fury barked. Looked at the front door.

"I know," Davis bit out. "But where do we start looking? Not like this town is small. She's a needle in a haystack out there!"

Irritation warmed his neck. Puffed his chest.

What did he know about Hollyn? What she liked to do. Where she liked to go. He didn't even know how to reach Leila and the twerp. Good thing, because he'd wring their necks.

If they'd taken Hollyn . . .

Like he'd summoned her with his mind, her face lit up his screen with an incoming call. Davis snatched the phone off the kitchen island. Swiped it open.

"Where are you?" he growled. "Didn't you see?—"

"Help!" Her frantic voice silenced his dressing-down. Made his blood run cold.

Davis could hear her crying and car noise in the background. His pulse thundered. "Did they take you? Do you know where you are?"

"I'm driving," Hollyn cried into the phone. "Someone's after me!"

He listened to the background noise. "Are you on speaker? Bluetooth?"

Please say yes.

He didn't need her driving one-handed in the middle of a car chase.

"Speaker."

Hands-free. Hopefully. That was good. "Tell me where you are and I'll?—"

"They won't stop following me! I—agh!"

Her yelp gutted him. "Who? Who's following you?" Davis grabbed the car keys he'd set on the counter. Tapped his leg on the way to the foyer.

Fury reached the door before him.

Hollyn sobbed. "I don't know, but I think they're trying to run me off the road. Is it them?"

Davis slammed the front door behind him. Hoofed it down the front path to the Chevelle.

God, please not her.

Why hadn't she stayed at the house? Or at least waited for him.

He heard the tires squeal. "Hollyn!" he snapped.

"I'm here." He hated the way terror clung to every syllable. "I think it is them. It has to be, right? I'm gonna die!" The last word held a tremor.

"You're not gonna die," Davis stated firmly. Willed it to be the truth. He couldn't lose her.

In the backseat, Fury panted, amped up, ready for action.

The engine of the SS roared to life when he turned the key. "Where are you?" he asked again, voice tight. Without a twenty on her, he'd just be driving around wasting time. Putting her life in more danger.

"I—I don't know. We were in town and then—" Her cry-moan cut off her sentence. "He's getting closer!"

Davis rammed a fist against the steering wheel. "Baby, give me something." He didn't have time to wonder where the intimate moniker came from. "Anything. A landmark. A freaking piece of trash on the ground!" Did she really not know a single road name after living here so long?

"I'm . . . I'm . . . " Her voice sounded distracted. "I'm driving along the ocean."

Better than nothing, but he still needed more.

"Going which direction?"

"I don't know!"

Davis shoved down his irritation. She was doing the best she could. "Is the ocean on your left or right?"

"Right."

Heading south.

"I don't see a road name. The last sign I saw was Al Mahdar Street, but then the road turned and I couldn't stop in time, so I went straight. It's a dirt road." She finished the sentence words on top of each other.

Dirt? Not good. Davis clamped down on a curse as he thumbed the map on his phone. None of the cars from the garage were made for off-roading. He found Al Mahdar. Switched to satellite view to get a sense of the terrain. Zoomed in. "Any city buildings around you?"

"Only industrial. Most of them are behind me now. There's something up ahead."

Out of town then. Check.

"Found it," he told her. "I'm on my way."

The constant, muffled sound of the soft road beneath her tires coming through the speaker was both assuring and unnerving. If she lost control or hit some kind of hole . . .

Davis pulled away from the house. Hurried down side streets till he made it onto the main road.

"Davis!" Hollyn cried out.

"I'm coming, Hol." A lump formed in his throat. He slammed a fist down on the middle console. Swallowed his emotion as he maneuvered around cars. They honked at him. Didn't care. He'd lead a twenty-car police chase if that's what it came down to. Wasn't slowing down or stopping. "If you?—"

"Agh!" Hollyn's scream pierced him before the line went dead.

Davis pressed the accelerator for all it was worth. Willed himself to find her before it was too late.

* * *

Hollyn grappled for the phone, but it flew out of her hand when her car jerked to the left. The line of communication to Davis tumbled onto the passenger floorboard as the back end of her BMW swung out at an unnatural angle. Doing her best to hold in another scream, she gripped the steering wheel, body on fire with adrenaline. Tried to remember what she'd been taught about turning into a fishtail. She pumped the brakes a second before she saw a flash of the black SUV coming up on her bumper.

Regaining control, she gunned the engine. This close, she could almost make out the driver. All she knew for sure was that it was a male—or a very short-haired woman—wearing a hat. Almost every time Hollyn glanced into the rearview mirror, the person lifted their wrist to their mouth, like they were talking into a smartwatch or something.

Or were they covering their face?

She didn't have a whole lot of time to think about it. Not crashing was taking up more than a little of her focus.

The road veered precariously near a drop-off toward the ocean below as both cars sped farther outside of the city. A shipping yard—or so she assumed—grew larger the closer she got. Hollyn squinted. She couldn't tell which way the road went. Then suddenly it curved and disappeared inside the gates of a massive shipping yard. Straight ahead was just wide open field. No roads.

Dead end.

Hollyn didn't have time to think or to stop to find another way around. She hit the brakes and drove her car through the opening, praying there was another way out on the other side. Otherwise, she'd just signed her death warrant.

"I don't want to die!" she shouted to God. "Please, help me!"

Had her parents said a similar prayer?

Focus or you'll be able to ask them yourself!

Inside the gates were stacks of shipping containers. She took the widest path between them, grateful there weren't many people inside. Still, it was far from empty.

Her pursuer had slightly less luck with the turn, and it gave Hollyn a bit of a lead she hadn't had before. The healing injury on her palm screamed from holding the steering wheel so tightly, but she didn't dare relax her grip. Probably couldn't have even if she'd wanted to.

Blessedly, it was a Saturday, which meant there were fewer people working in the industrial facility than she'd anticipated. Still, she was given more than a few choice gestures as her car shot along a row of shipping containers. She pressed her horn with all her might in warning. The thought of someone unknowingly stepping out from behind the containers and walking into her path . . .

On the far side of the massive area was an opening in the fence. A way out. She accelerated toward it.

Hollyn drew in a deep, shaky breath. The SUV was about two car lengths behind now and closing in.

A forklift holding a smaller container started backing toward her path.

"No, no, no!" she yelled in vain.

She blared the horn over and over. Held her breath. It was going to be close if the guy driving the machine didn't hear her.

At the last second, the guy stopped. Yelled at her just as she sped out of the yard and back onto dirt. Her body jostled as she navigated the uneven terrain. The road curved back toward the ocean and was getting progressively bumpier. Hollyn wasn't sure how much road was left.

Please, let Davis be close!

It was getting harder to keep her car steady. The BMW definitely wasn't made for off-roading. White knuckled, she watched as the driver of the SUV came up beside her. Hollyn cast a quick glance at her blind spot. The black vehicle suddenly rammed the side of her trunk.

Hollyn screamed as her BMW twisted. It pitched off the side of the road, rear first over the embankment. Hollyn's hands pressed to the ceiling, and her backside lifted off her seat as earth gave way to sky in the windshield. Her seatbelt kept her from going too far, but weightlessness was instantly replaced by hard edges when the car hit something.

Her head whipped forward from the impact. Airbags deployed and hit her with brute force. Her ears rang, head throbbing as she flailed against the bags.

Adrenaline continued pulsing in her veins, but she could feel herself fading.

"Davis," she heard herself moan. Where was he?

Hollyn's vision swam and she slumped forward as consciousness teetered toward darkness.