Hooked

4

Cops.

I whipped my head towards Brett as two cop cars skidded to a stop in front of the house. He was frozen, eyes wide, before finally muttering:

"The neighbors."

Realization dawned on me. Someone must of called in a noise complaint. And it definitely didn't help that Brett was standing next to a battered Jeep, a baseball bat dangling from his hand.

Panic immediately settled in the pit of my stomach, making its contents churn unpleasantly. A hand latched onto my own just as someone from the party began giving warning calls; screams and hollers erupted all over.

Brett began to drag me across the lawn as everyone from inside the house immediately began pouring out, carrying as much evidence as they could. I let out a yelp as a beefy looking guy rammed into my side as he carried a metal keg, nearly ripping my hand from Brett's hold. Brett tightened his grip and yanked me closer to his side.

Soldiers of the law immediately joined in the fiasco. Dodging around cops and flustered college students, Brett weaved us in and out of chaos as we made our way to his truck parked across the street a little ways down.

"Be as quiet as possible." He said lowly, eyes darting too and fro. I only nodded in response, too scared to do much of anything.

"Hey! You two!"

Oh no.

Brett ignored the voice calling out to us from behind and quickened his pace to a full out run. Struggling to stay beside him, I desperately tried not to trip my feet up. His truck loomed ahead, it's black paint shining in the blue lights.

Please, please, please...

Brett's free hand grasped the door handle. Wasting no time, he scooped me up and launched me inside. I let out a squeak as I tumbled my way into the passenger seat, banging my shin against something. Brett followed closely behind. Glancing up as he shoved the key into the ignition, I heard him swear as he took in the sight of the cop wobbling his way over to the truck, five cars away.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." Brett chanted. The truck rumbled to life, causing Brett to give out a little whoop. Flooring it, he tore away from the line of parked cars. I gripped the sides of the seat, feeling as if I were about to throw up.

The truck sped away from the house, and I risked taking a peek in the rearview mirror.

"Brett!" I gasped.

Confused, he looked in the mirror. Suddenly he swore, slamming a hand against the steering wheel. Behind us was an arriving cop car, lights flashing and siren blaring as it caught sight of our flight. I waited for Brett to pull to the side, but instead the world outside of the truck fell away faster.

"Brett.." I began slowly. "Aren't you going to pull over?"

His jaw clenched, but he didn't respond.

"Brett-."

A sharp left turn stole the words from my tongue as the truck tilted from the force. I let out a slight shriek and returned my death grip to the sides of the seat. Looking back up, I caught sight of a determined glint in Brett's dark eyes as we sped onto the main road.

The cop was still on our tail, keeping up the chase. I watched as the speedometer climbed in number as the truck turned and winded down the road. Another sharp turn, this time to the right, launched us onto a dirt road. The sudden change from pavement to dirt shocked me and I dug my fingertips into the leather seat.

With a series of complex turns following, I risked one more peek into the rearview mirror.

"Brett, he's still behind us."

Sure enough, there was the cop car, struggling to keep up with the truck. It bounced and jolted along the road, far behind.

But still too close for comfort.

Brett noticed this too. Turning to me, he sternly held my gaze. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." No. I don't know.

"Ok. Hold on, alright?" He then made an abrupt left turn into the darkness that bordered the side of the road. Letting out a shriek, I closed my eyes as the truck leapt up and down. I heard the sound of Brett shifting gears and felt the truck begin to slow. Opening my eyes back up, I was immediately met by a cornstalk.

Everything was completely dark, and I came to the realization that Brett had turned off the lights. Maneuvering his way around, Brett drove the truck onto the side road along the field used, presumably, by the farmer that owned the property. Trees created an overhang with their drooping branches. We were completely hidden as we drove-more like crept-along.

I peered out the window, catching sight of blue lights tearing through the center of the field. I frowned at this, watching as the cop car completely blew past our hiding spot.

Brett and I sat in silence as we listened to the sound of sirens growing farther and farther away. I was still too shocked to say anything just yet. You can't really blame me. This was the first time I'd ever even encountered a cop. I heard a deep intake of breath and glanced over to the person in the drivers seat.

Brett slipped his baseball cap off of his head, running a hand through his curls exhaustedly. He stared out the front window for a moment or two, before finally glancing over and connecting his dark gaze to mine. I couldn't read anything from them, really, except they had that glint still. The dangerous one.

The one that I shouldn't be involved with.

"How did you know that that would work?" I asked, keeping my voice low. Brett's gaze wavered.

"I didn't."

I nodded slowly, absorbing this. "So, we totally could've been sitting ducks there, huh?"

"We could've." He agreed, not bothering to defend or argue.

"Uh huh." I drawled. Leaning back into the leather of the seat, I stared out into the dark field. "Who's field is this?"

Brett gave me an expression as if I should already know this. "The Harrison's."

I pursed my lips. "Are the Harrison's okay with random vehicles tearing through their crops?"

Brett went silent.

"No, they probably aren't." He finally responded.

I nodded again. Just nodded. I didn't need to express any further disapproval, for I'm pretty sure that he got the memo. After a couple of minutes of sitting in silence in his truck, Brett cleared his throat. I glanced over at him, taking in his blank face in the glow of the stereo light, the clock reading 9:21.

"Brett," I mumbled. "Before asking for a favor, let the person know whether there is law enforcement and car chases involved before hand, ok?"