Chapter 23 Unpredicted Danger

Chapter 23 Unpredicted Danger
Elodie pressed her forehead lightly against the cold window, trying to steady her breathing.

The road stretched ahead in a long, quiet line, flanked by dense woods on both sides. Tall trees swallowed the morning light, their shadows crawling over the asphalt. The scenery felt uncomfortably familiar—too much like the road leading to Noah’s house. Isolated. Cut off. As if the world had decided she didn’t need witnesses.

Her hands trembled in her lap.

The driver hadn’t said a word since she got in. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed forward, shoulders rigid in a way that told her he wasn’t the type for small talk. Not today. Not ever. There was a tension to him, subtle but undeniable, like he knew something she didn’t.

She swallowed hard. She should call Noah, she think.

The thought hit her with desperate urgency—and died just as quickly. Noah hadn’t given her access to a phone. No number. No device. Nothing. For the first time since meeting him, she felt the full weight of that absence.

She wanted him right there. Beside hera

The taxi continued down the road, tires humming softly against the pavement.

Then she saw it.

A black car appeared in the distance behind them, barely visible at first. The driver’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror—just once—but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. He straightened, forcing his expression back into calm.

Elodie noticed anyway.

“Is… something wrong?” she asked, her voice small.

“No,” the driver replied too quickly. “Just traffic.”

She nodded, telling herself not to panic. Roads crossed. Cars shared directions. This didn’t have to mean anything.

The black car drew closer.

Still, she stayed quiet. Stayed still. Pretended her heart wasn’t pounding hard enough to hurt.

The moment the car pulled alongside them, everything happened at once.

She didn’t even register the speed before the impact.

Glass exploded inward with a deafening crack. The car lurched violently to the side, metal screaming against metal. Elodie screamed—raw and unrestrained—as the world tilted and spun, the sound of tires shrieking like they were being dragged straight into hell.

She ducked instinctively, curling her body down, arms over her head as shards rained around her.

The car skidded, slammed, and finally screeched to a halt.

“Move to the backseat!” the driver shouted.

Elodie barely felt the sting of glass cutting her skin as she crawled, shaking, obeying without thought. She stayed low, protecting her head, heart hammering so loud she could barely hear anything else—

Until gunshots cracked through the air.

One after another. Death tearing through the silence.

The driver didn’t hesitate.

The moment his feet hit the ground, he moved like a man who already knew this might be his last assignment. He fired first, sharp and precise. One of the men from the black car went down instantly, collapsing against the asphalt with a sound too dull to be dramatic.

Three kept coming.

Gunfire cracked again, louder now, closer. The driver shouted something—maybe a warning, maybe her name—but it was swallowed by the chaos. The men spread out, moving fast, practiced, ruthless. She heard fists connect. A grunt of pain. The dull sound of a body hitting metal.

Her last hope staggered.

Elodie pressed herself deeper into the backseat, curling in on herself, knees pulled tight to her chest. She wished—desperately—that the seat would open up and swallow her whole. That she could disappear into the fabric and never be found.

Cold air poured in through the shattered window, biting into her skin, dragging her back into reality.

She heard it then. Footsteps retreating, strained breathing, the sound of someone being dragged.

Two of them hauled the driver toward the woods, his boots scraping uselessly against the ground. He didn’t shout again. Either he couldn’t—or they made sure he wouldn’t.

Elodie squeezed her eyes shut. The silence that followed was worse than the gunshots.

Then footsteps returned, slow and deliberate.

Her chest tightened painfully as memory slammed into her—Jeff’s hands, the van door, the smell of fear and gasoline. The way she’d begged. The way she’d almost been delivered straight into O’Connell’s hands.

She’d escaped once. But this time, she knew better.

This time, there would be no miracle.

As the shadow fell across the broken window, Elodie bowed her head lower, breath shallow, heart shattering with the awful certainty of it—

Jeff’s last wish was finally being granted.
And she was about to fall into O’Connell’s grasp.

The first man slammed his forehead against the backseat window.

A dull, brutal thud echoed through the car, close enough that Elodie felt it in her bones. She flinched, breath catching painfully in her throat. Slowly—against every instinct screaming at her not to—she lifted her head.

He was smiling at her. A thin, crooked curve of the lips, mocking in its calm.

“Good morning, Miss,” he said, voice almost pleasant. “Mind opening the door?"

Elodie didn’t move. Her body refused to obey her mind.

The man tilted his head, amused. “You know there’s no point in defending yourself,” he went on lightly. “I’m definitely gonna get you anyway.”

He lifted his hand and pointed toward the driver’s seat—the mangled door, the blood smeared along the edge, the broken glass glittering like teeth on the floor.

Elodie swallowed hard, her hands clenched around her own arms. She stayed exactly where she was, curled inward, barely breathing.

Then two gunshots tore through the woods.

The man blinked, then laughed, a low sound full of cruel delight. “Wow,” he said. “They’re evil.”

He glanced over his shoulder, clearly assuming his two friends had finished the job—had put bullets into the driver’s body and ended his resistance for good.

He turned back to Elodie, smile stretching wider now.

And then he started hitting the car.

Again and again.

Metal groaned under the force of his fists as he laughed, unhinged, slamming his palm against the door just to watch her flinch.

“Open the door!” he shouted, banging harder. “Open the door!”

Elodie cried—but no sound came out. Her mouth trembled, tears spilling silently down her cheeks as her body shook uncontrollably. The terror was absolute, paralyzing.

That only entertained him more. He leaned closer, fingers slipping through the broken window, reaching for the lock.

Click.

The sound was soft. Ordinary.

The door cracked open.

And in that moment, Elodie saw the end of herself—clear and unavoidable—

Until a gunshot exploded.

Glass shattered outward this time. Blood sprayed hot and sudden, painting the inside of the car in violent red. The man’s body violently collapsing forward, half-falling into the car like a broken doll.

Elodie stared, frozen, her scream trapped somewhere deep inside her chest.

A man appeared to her view, his expression calm—almost gentle. There was blood on his sleeve, on his cheek, but his smile was light. Casual. As if he hadn’t just blown a man’s head apart in front of her.

“Hi, lady,” he said easily. “I’m here to make sure you’re okay.”

He lowered the gun slightly, eyes meeting hers with unsettling steadiness.

“I’m James,” he added.
Then, after a brief pause, his smile curved just a little more.

“Or… you used to know me as Rookie.”