Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8) by Kaylie Hunter (novels to read for beginners txt) 📕

He didn’t answer. I watched the scene unfold as if he was a younger Bruce Willis in one of the many Die Hard movies. Trigger jetted into the road, causing two cars to slam on their brakes to avoid hitting him. In the third lane, another driver hit his brakes as Trigger ran in front of the car, staying in that lane and turning to run with the flow of traffic. Ahead of him was a five-ton commercial truck still accelerating through the gears after the last traffic light.

The truck had a non-standard back with tall side rails but only heavy straps were netted along the back. Trigger ran faster, trying to catch up to the truck, as I changed lanes and moved into the center lane.

“You lost the bogies,” Ryan said to Trigger. “They aren’t as dumb as you.”

Trigger leapt forward, securing his hands into the cargo net. The truck lurched forward as the driver made another gear change. The jarring motion caused one of Trigger’s hands to lose its grip on the net and his body swung from side to side. He managed to grab hold again as he was thrown around, but he was hanging too low to secure his feet.

“Trigger—” I yelled. “Left foot to bottom outside corner of the truck! There’s a foothold!”

Trigger stopped scrambling with both feet and swung only his left foot out, searching for the hold. I watched his hand start to slip on the netting. The speed limit was twenty-five, but based on my own speed, the truck was moving along with traffic at closer to thirty.

I cut off another car and moved behind the truck. Horns blasted around me but I ignored them. “You’re missing the foothold by two inches. Farther left! Higher!”

His foot found the cutout and he lifted himself up. We heard him release his breath over the mic.

I looked around, trying to gauge our location. A sign indicated that the exit for the interstate was one mile ahead and that both outside lanes would exit. Since the truck was in the third lane, I was hopeful. Then the driver turned on his right blinker to get over.

“Shit,” I said. “He’s taking the interstate.”

“I can’t jump, Boss,” Trigger said, glancing back at me as I followed the truck over one lane to the right.

Traffic was moving even faster than before. If he jumped now, his body would bounce into another lane and he’d be squashed.

“What’s the plan, Boss?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Think faster. He could drive for hours before he stops again.”

I ignored him and followed the truck onto the interstate. As we merged, a cop sitting on the side of the road spotted Trigger. The cruiser’s lights flashed on and the officer charged full speed ahead to get in front of the truck.

“Trigger. Before that truck stops completely, you need to jump, then run back toward the exit. Find a place to hide until we pick you up.”

“Can’t you just pick me up now?” he whined, looking over his shoulder at me.

“In front of the cop? You just mugged someone, dumbass! Dispatch would’ve broadcasted your description by now.”

“Shit.”

I slowed, creating a larger gap between my car and the truck which was edging off the side of the road. The cop was in front of the truck. They both coasted as the truck prepared to stop. “Remember, if you fall, tuck your shoulder and roll.”

Trigger looked down at the asphalt. It was still passing at about ten miles an hour.

“Now, Trigger!” Ryan ordered.

Trigger jumped.

Unfortunately, his legs swept out from under him and he rolled toward the shoulder of the road. There was zero tucking involved. He slammed, bounced, and then slid across the road, skidding through the gravel shoulder before toppling over the edge into a ditch. His body disappeared from our view.

Ryan and I both inhaled sharply. We sat frozen, staring at the ditch. Trigger, covered in greenish-brown slime, sprang up and ran back toward the exit.

I looked ahead and saw the cop was walking toward the rear of the truck. I’d waited too long and he spotted me. He started running, looking first to see that Trigger was gone and then running to our car and looking inside.

“Why did you stop?” the officer asked.

“There was a man—” I pointed to the truck, stuttering my speech “—on the truck. I didn’t know… what I was supposed to do.”

“Did you see where he went?”

Ryan pointed to the other side of the truck. “He ran into that ditch.”

The cop’s face puckered in disgust. “That’s a runoff. It’s filled with sewage and trash.” He sighed and looked back at us. “Did he look injured? Because if he wasn’t injured, maybe I let this one slide.”

“He looked like an idiot!” I said. “But not injured.”

“Hey!” Trigger said through the earpiece. “I heard that.”

“Good enough for me,” the cop said, nodding as he thumped the top of our car with his palm. “You folks have a nice day.”

Chapter Thirty

CHARLIE

Tuesday, 10:34 a.m.

Beast whined again. We'd waited for Lydia for an hour and a half. The patch of shade we'd claimed under the corner tree was shrinking fast as the sun rose toward late morning.

“Come on, boy,” I said, slapping the side of my leg. "We'll track her down later."

Beast jumped up and bounced alongside me as I signaled to Bones and Wild Card that I was calling it. They'd positioned themselves so they could monitor me from afar. Far enough so they wouldn’t spook Lydia, but close enough if Mr. Tricky got any ideas.

As Beast and I walked toward the precinct, I wondered why Lydia hadn’t showed. She couldn’t have spotted Bones or Wild Card. It had taken me forty-five minutes to find Bones, and