But Not For Lust by BJ Bourg (comprehension books .txt) 📕

she reached the hooks on the wall—she had to put her arms out to steady herself—and then grabbed the set of keys for her Dodge Charger. She knew Baylor would disapprove, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She needed her independence, and she needed it now. She hadn’t been behind the wheel of a car since the ambush, but that was about to change.

Amy also wanted to be part of the search effort for J-Rock. She had heard Clint call over the radio that J-Rock had escaped by jumping into the bayou. She knew she couldn’t be there to help in the actual chase, but at least she could coordinate the search efforts from the radio room.

Amy ignored the wheelchair ramp that Baylor had kindly built, choosing instead to use the concrete steps that led to the front sidewalk. The pain in her leg was excruciating, but the doctors had warned her that was to be expected. Since she knew it was normal pain, it didn’t hurt as much. Had the pain been unexplained or unexpected, she might worry that she was doing more damage. However, the professionals had assured her she couldn’t hurt herself more than she already had, so she trudged forward, careful to miss the crack in the sidewalk. Although walking was supposed to hurt, she wasn’t supposed to fall. That—she knew for certain—would cause some problems, and possibly a setback in her recovery.

When Amy reached the driver’s door to her unmarked cruiser, she paused to catch her breath. The sun was going down and it was growing cooler, but she felt warm. After wiping a rivulet of sweat from her brow, she opened the door and carefully eased herself inside the vehicle. Once she was seated, she gripped the steering wheel and closed her eyes.

“Ah, it feels so good to be sitting here again,” she said softly, and then began to sing an Aerosmith song her dad used to play all the time. “I’m back! I’m back in the saddle again—”

She opened her eyes to shove the key in the ignition, but cursed wildly and jerked hard on the steering wheel to avoid an RV that had suddenly appeared in front of her. A woman stood in the open door of the RV and she was spraying the front windshield with bullets.

Amy found herself screaming and jerking to the left and right, trying to avoid the bullets that were raining down on her. It was several long seconds of violent maneuvering and pain shooting up her leg before she realized she was alone in the car and everything was fine.

Her heart pounding like a sledgehammer in her chest, she jerked on the handle and shoved the car door open. She was leaning to her left and lost her balance when the door opened. She spilled out into the driveway, groaning in pain as her left leg banged against the door frame on her way to the ground.

Panting heavily, her heart racing out of control, she shifted onto her back and stared at the darkening sky.

“What in the hell is wrong with me?” she cried. “What in the living hell just happened?”

  CHAPTER 19

The five of us pulled up short at the edge of the embankment and stared in disbelief at the giant ripples in the water below. I was thankful none of us had acted hastily and jumped in after J-Rock. Not only was the bayou shallow along the edges, but there were all sorts of obstacles down there that could impale an unsuspecting person. Over the years, we had removed old bicycles, pieces of pipe, rebar, and even cars from the water. It was a minefield of obstacles down there. It was highly possible J-Rock had dived directly into such an object and died upon impact.

“He jumped!” I finally said after a long moment of silence. I was keenly aware that they had just witnessed the same thing I had. For some reason, I felt it necessary to state the obvious. “J-Rock actually jumped!”

“I need to get a boat in the water,” Melvin said, turning quickly to Susan. “If he resurfaces, we’ll never catch him unless we’ve got someone on the water.”

Susan nodded and said she was taking Melvin back to the police department. As they headed for Susan’s Tahoe, I grabbed my radio and called it in while simultaneously beginning to pick my way down to the lower bank. Baylor and Takecia followed my lead, picking different spots along the embankment to descend to the water’s edge.

As I half slid and half climbed down the muddy face of the embankment—using roots and shallow toe holds to control my fall—I kept my eyes on the spot where I’d last seen J-Rock. At first, the water had exploded in bubbles and ripples, but it had been reduced to a gentle rocking motion. There were no more bubbles. I didn’t know what that meant. Had he drowned? Or was he holding his breath?

I began scanning the surface of the water farther out from the bank, looking to see if he would resurface somewhere else. Had it been me and I had survived the dive, I would’ve held my breath and swum along the edge of the bayou, rather than toward the middle. The natural tendency for a criminal would’ve been to put as much distance between himself and his pursuers, which would’ve meant trying to reach the opposite bank. However, a nice trick would be to do the opposite, and stay close to the nearest bank.

“Keep an eye out along this bank,” I called to Baylor and Takecia as I reached the water’s edge. The mud was much softer here and I sank to my ankles. “He might’ve even crawled out of the water and hid amongst the trees down here.”

Baylor nodded and started to pick his way southward, while I began to search to the north.

“I’ll watch the