CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
MILLIE
“ Y ou’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I shrieked, slapping a hand down on the center console. This could not be happening—again.
I was stranded on the side of the same highway as before. At least this time I had company. Though, Greer wasn’t too pleased with that fact. She was scowling at her phone as she maneuvered it this way and that. Likely looking for service she wouldn’t find.
“There’s no service through here,” I announced, as if she hadn’t come to the same conclusion.
Her scowl deepened. “I don’t like this, Millie. Something doesn’t feel right.”
We were running a little later than I had hoped after picking up my car from Tim’s. In an effort to make up some of the lost time, I had opted to take the quickest route. Regardless, I wouldn’t be using this one ever again—I didn’t care if it meant going miles out of my way to avoid it.
I peered ahead, but there were no other travelers as far as the eye could see. Where was a grumpy sheriff when you needed one?
When I looked in my rearview, I spotted a truck creeping closer.
Greer turned in her seat, looking out the back glass as the truck pulled to a stop behind us and idled there. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I glanced over at Greer. She gulped, reaching for the buckle of her seatbelt and unlatching it .
“Wait here,” she said.
“We should go together,” I offered, hating the idea of her walking up to some stranger alone. But she was shaking her head before I even had all the words out.
“Absolutely not,” she responded adamantly. “I promised Emmett I would keep you safe. And chances are, I’ll know whoever this is.”
I prayed she was right.
Quickly, she dug through her purse and pulled out a small canister attached to a keychain. She spun it so I could see the label.
“I’ll be fine,” she murmured with resolve. “I’m going to see if whoever this is can help us.”
I shook my head, not liking her plan.
“It’s all right, Millie,” she assured me, as if she wasn’t about to do something insanely stupid. Though, her eyes shone with fire as she opened the door, palmed the pepper spray, and stepped out on the pavement.
She slammed it shut then tapped the window—mouthing, “Lock the doors.” Once I did, she made her way behind my car, stopping only as the truck’s driver door flew open. I turned in my seat so I could watch through the back glass instead of the rearview mirror.
The man who slid out from behind the wheel looked eerily familiar—like something from my nightmares. I watched as Greer’s arm relaxed, her grip on the pepper spray lax as she called out, “Oh, hey!”
Did she know him?
“Our car broke down,” she said. “And there’s no cell service on this stretch of the highway.”
As the man took a few steps forward, I caught sight of something reflective in his hand. It took a second for my brain to register what my eyes were seeing, but when it finally did I yelled—“KNIFE!”
Greer turned toward me, confused. And the man took that opportunity to charge. I screamed as I watched Greer step back and attempt to raise her pepper spray. But he was already there.
His arm swung backward then surged forward, plunging the knife deep into Greer’s abdomen. Her eyes went wide then dimmed before her shoulders slumped .
I continued to scream, tears rolling down my face as I watched him jerk the blade free and step back. Greer staggered then dropped to her knees, clutching the wound already spilling too much blood. Her eyes found mine for a brief moment, and I raised my hand to cup my mouth as the rest of her body hit the ground.
Glass shattered, and a hand grabbed the back of my head, yanking me by my hair.
I had to fight. I would not die on the side of this damned highway and neither would Greer. I clawed at the hand in my hair, but it was gloved. In my periphery, the sight of a distinctive red fabric caught my attention.
Were those mine?
Unfortunately, my brief pause was long enough for my assailant to cock his free hand back and swing—hard.
The blow hit my temple, fading my world to black.