Jump the Gun

Prologue

BRIAR

I hear him before I see him.

Alex's bright red Camaro slows to a stop just outside of the gas station I'm currently hiding in. I quickly duck behind a shelf of cheap donuts and mini cakes, concealing my face with the black hood I'm wearing.

Please, just leave.

The bell above the door chimes, and my pulse feels like someone set it on fire. Loud footsteps come closer. Multiple sets of them.

"You seen this girl?"

At first, I'm afraid he's spotted me and is asking me that question just to rub it in my face. But I find Alex and two of his friends interrogating the cashier, holding up a phone with my picture, no doubt.

"Can't say I have," the cashier guy responds with a shrug. I'm crouched on the ground of the aisle, peeking around the corner.

"You sure about that?" Alex presses, shoving his phone back into the pocket of the black jacket he's wearing. "Because I think you're lying to me."

If the cashier did see me, he doesn't show it on his face. "I'm sorry, sir. But I don't recognize the woman in that picture." He returns to putting packs of cigarettes in the case behind him.

No. Turn back around.

But it's too late.

Alex reaches into his waistband and pulls out a gun, aiming at the back of the cashier's head before pulling the trigger.

I place a hand over my mouth, trying to calm my breathing as I watch the cashier fall to the floor, luckily hidden from my view behind the counter.

"Check the bathrooms," Alex says casually, as if he didn't just kill a man.

His friends' footsteps grow closer, so I quietly crawl to the other end of the aisle, making my way to the back door.

Once I see them enter the bathrooms, I push the back glass door open and sprint out into the parking lot. Alex left the Camaro running, the doors unlocked.

I hop in, immediately putting the car in drive and speeding out onto the main road, ignoring his friends yelling after me, running out of the gas station.

I sigh in relief, turning onto a backroad in hopes of getting as far away as possible.

But the click of the gun and the feeling of cold metal pressed against the side of my neck makes me freeze in fear.

The car is still moving, but I don't dare breathe.

"Didn't think you'd get away that easy, did you?" Alex whispers from the backseat behind me.

Dammit.

I choke back tears, praying that someone, anyone, drives past us on this road so I can flicker the high beams and get their attention.

But, of course, there's not a soul on this backroad in the middle of the night. Just trees and darkness. And the barrel of a gun against my neck.

"Why don't you take the next left and we can go back home. Safe and sound?" Alex says, using his free hand to twirl a strand of my hair between his fingers.

I can't go back there.

I don't think. It's like my body has taken over my brain's ability to function because as soon as we approach the left he wants me to take, I swerve the wheel to the right, towards the guardrail that shields the cliff.

I'd rather die than go back there.

"What the hell!" Alex shrieks as the car loses control and smashes right through the metal, tumbling down the edge.

I brace myself, hoping the seatbelt and my hands gripping the inside of the door will protect me. The car continues to tumble, my head hitting the roof. The airbag deploys, and I feel my ribs break in that instant.

Everything is so loud, and I can't even see anything with how fast we're falling. Not until the car slows to a stop, wobbling slightly before everything goes still and quiet.

The pain in my chest and neck is unbearable, but I manage to turn my head just enough to find Alex sprawled across the backseat, in an extremely uncomfortable position. Blood drips down the side of his face. Of course, he wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

His gun is on the floorboard, just lying there.

I wince as I try to move even slightly. The windows are all broken, so I can't see exactly where we landed. The airbag is still in my face.

I don't have a phone. I don't have anything. No one knows where I am. No one would bother to check the side of a cliff.

The last thing I remember is the sound of the wind before everything goes black.