Chapter 58

After getting in the car, I dozed off in the back seat, reflecting on the events of the past few days—my father in jail, Hunter refusing to help, and my investigation hitting dead ends at every turn. The whiskey I'd consumed earlier made my limbs feel pleasantly heavy, the edges of my consciousness softly blurred.

"Jane! Wake up!" Frank's urgent voice cut through my drowsy haze.

My eyes snapped open, instantly alert. Frank's face was tense, his eyes darting between the road ahead and the rearview mirror.

"What's wrong?" I asked, straightening in my seat.

"Two trucks," he replied tersely, "One ahead, one behind. They're boxing us in."

I glanced out the window. We were on a narrow single-lane road with steep embankments on both sides—the perfect spot for an ambush. The truck ahead was deliberately slowing, while the one behind maintained a steady distance, preventing any escape.

"How long have they been following us?" I asked, my mind rapidly calculating our options.

"The one behind joined about three minutes ago. The one ahead appeared from a side road just now." Frank's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. I nodded, instantly sober. "Frank, there's a metal rod under your seat. Get it ready."

Without hesitation, I reached beneath my own seat, fingers closing around the cool metal of another rod I'd stashed there weeks ago. After the explosion at my apartment, I'd taken precautions. Some might call it paranoia; I called it preparation.

The truck ahead came to a complete stop, blocking our path entirely. Four men jumped out, their bulky figures silhouetted against the headlights. The truck behind us stopped as well, its doors opening to release more figures into the night.

"Stay in the car," Frank instructed, reaching for his weapon.

"No," I countered, straightening my skirt and ensuring my phone was secure in my pocket. "We'll face them together."

Frank's expression showed disagreement, but he nodded once, respecting my decision. "Stay behind me."

"Not likely," I muttered, gripping my metal rod firmly as I pushed open the car door.

The cool night air temporarily cleared the last traces of alcohol from my system. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, projecting a confidence I wasn't entirely sure I felt.

"Good evening, gentlemen," I called out, my voice steady and clear in the night. "Lovely evening for a roadblock, isn't it?"

One of the men stepped forward. "You need to come with us, Ms. James."

"I'm afraid my schedule is quite full," I replied, tightening my grip on the rod partially hidden behind my skirt. "Perhaps we could reschedule? My assistant can set something up next month."

The man's expression darkened. "This isn't a request."

"May I ask who sent you?" I inquired pleasantly, as if we were discussing a dinner invitation rather than what was clearly a kidnapping attempt.

"Someone who wants to speak with you."

"How mysterious," I smiled thinly. "Does this someone have a name? Sean Parker, perhaps? Or maybe my dear cousin Mary?"

Something flickered across the man's face before he controlled it. "You talk too much. Let's go." He gestured to his companions, who began to close in around us.

"If I go with you, what are the chances I'll remain alive?" I asked directly, dropping the pretense of politeness.

The leader's silence was answer enough.

"I thought so," I said, my voice cooling several degrees. "Frank, I believe these gentlemen need a lesson in manners."

What happened next surprised even me. Frank moved with a speed and precision I hadn't witnessed before. The first attacker barely had time to register movement before Frank had him on the ground, gasping for air. The second received a precise strike to the knee that dropped him instantly.

I didn't have time to admire Frank's skills further as two men approached me directly. I swung my metal rod in a wide arc, forcing them to step back. One lunged forward, and I sidestepped, bringing the rod down hard on his shoulder. He howled in pain but didn't go down.

The second man circled around, trying to get behind me. I kept moving, maintaining sight of both attackers. My heart pounded in my chest, but years of martial arts training had prepared me for moments like this.

The first man charged again. I dodged, using his momentum against him, and delivered a sharp strike to his kidney. He stumbled but kept his footing. The second man seized the opportunity to grab my arm. I twisted, breaking his grip, and swung the rod directly at his face. He jerked back, but not fast enough to avoid a glancing blow.

Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires filled the air. More vehicles? My heart sank. We were holding our own, but more attackers would tip the scales decidedly against us.

"Frank, you should go," I called out, preparing myself for what appeared to be a hopeless situation. "Get help. I'll hold them off."

Frank ignored me, continuing to fight with methodical efficiency.

To my surprise, the newcomers didn't join our attackers. Instead, they launched themselves at the men surrounding us. Within seconds, the tide had turned completely. In less than a minute, most of our attackers were on the ground, with the remainder fleeing into the night.

I lowered my rod slightly, breathing hard, and turned to one of our unexpected saviors. "Thank you for your assistance, but... who are you?"

The man simply nodded. "Just passing by, saw you needed help."

"Just passing by?" I raised an eyebrow, my lawyer instincts firing. "On this remote road, at this exact moment?"

The man shrugged. "Right place, right time."

I turned to Frank, who was wiping blood from his knuckles with a handkerchief. "Frank, do you know these people?"

A momentary expression of hesitation crossed his face. "No, I don't."

I didn't believe him for a second.

"Well, whoever you are," I said, turning back to our mysterious saviors, "your timing was impeccable. I'd like to thank you properly."

"No need," the man replied. "We should go. Police will be here soon."

Indeed, distant sirens were already wailing in the night air. I nodded, making mental notes of as many details about these people as I could.

At the police station, I watched as the officers processed the three attackers who hadn't managed to escape. I kept my statement clear and concise, maintaining the professional demeanor expected of a top attorney, despite the dried blood on my knuckles and the tear in my skirt.

"Jane, the guy we caught says he was hired to kidnap a woman but claims he doesn't know who's behind it," Gilbert informed me, looking tired as he flipped through his notes. "Says payment was arranged anonymously."

"How convenient," I remarked dryly.

"There's more," Gilbert continued. "That truck that hit your car earlier today? Driver says the brakes failed. Our mechanics confirmed it—brake lines were worn through, classic mechanical failure."

"You don't say," I replied, not bothering to mask my skepticism. "What an extraordinary coincidence."

Gilbert gave me a measured look. "Jane, I know you're going through a lot right now, with your father and everything else, but—"