{Twenty-Nine}

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Meet You There // 5 SOS

Jackson

It isn't until after I peel out from Grinder's driveway that I realize I'm driving blind. I'm not exactly sure how to get to the water tower. I didn't grow up here and I'm still learning the lay of the land. I open my maps app on my phone and use speech to text to look up the Fallbrook water tower. The directions give me two options. The suggested route looks like a main road leading from the highway up the hill.

Expected arrival in twenty fucking minutes. She could be gone in twenty minutes. She could be dead. But the other road looks like it could be a dirt access path with how thin it's showing up. I'd have to drive through a neighborhood.

What if it's a walking path? If I was driving a motorcycle—which I may never do ever again after the one and only time I've ever ridden one—I'd take that road, no hesitation. But I'm driving a truck. What if I can't get through the entrance?

Too many what if's. Too many unknowns. I'm fucking losing my mind. I need to find Holly and it needs to happen now. I'm regretting leaving in a rush without any back up. I'm sure Frank has some guy on her trail anyway. They won't even need me.

In fact, I'm sure they have people on whichever path makes the most sense. Instead of stalling and freaking out, I choose the neighborhood route and follow the directions to get there. If I wasn't in such a fucking panic, I might enjoy this drive. It's scenic, peaceful. The complete opposite of how I'm feeling.

I take the turns and wind through the streets. The houses get bigger, the yards get more impressive, and I start to wonder if I'm going the right way. It's too quiet, too nice for nefarious deeds to be occurring. At least on the surface that's the sense I get. I have no idea what's happening up that road, but I can't imagine any of its good based on who she's with.

It was never confirmed but I know in my gut that Holly's with her dad. She'd never go off somewhere alone with him willingly. This has to be bad news. It can't end well. I just hope and pray its Judge that things don't end well for.

Please, God, spare Holly.

I make the last turn and drive up hill on a tiny dead-end street. At the top, between two massive houses, McMansions is a better word, I see an opening. As I get closer a wide dirt road comes into view. I check the time. Sixteen minutes have passed, not twenty, which makes me wonder how far up this road the water tower is.

My truck passes through the opening easily, but the dirt road on the other side is another story. Full of potholes and dips, my truck bounces all over the place. It's a rough ride for sure but I press forward. After a few sharp turns around tall brush, I hit a straightaway along the side of the hill. I gun it. Halfway to the bend in the road leading around the hill, a car barrels around the curve ahead of me. Heading right for me. It takes a minute before I recognize it.

"Holly!" I shout even though she can't hear me, but that's definitely her car. I keep my eyes trained on her as the car gets closer. I start sweating when I realize how fast its going. But it's not until I recognize the driver that I start seeing red. Judge. And he's not slowing down. He's not trying to get around me.

Is he playing chicken? No way I'm letting him get by me, not with Holly in the car. But I don't want her getting hurt either. The decision is taken out of my hands when I hear his tires spin on the dirt and watch the dust fly. He's gunning it right at me.

I swerve to the left, letting my truck's bed take the brunt of the impact. Which it does, more than I expected. His nose crashes right into the middle of my passenger side with a sickening crunch. I have no control of the wheel. I work the wheel, futilely turning it into the spin as I pump the brakes. his car pushes my truck back down the hill. We don't stop sliding for a few more feet. Caught by the side of the hill and about half a dozen bushes.

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