Mercedes, bulldozing it aside. “In three or four exits.” Keeping up this cat-and-mouse bullshit was dangerous to innocent bystanders. And he didn’t like the way Isis’s cheeks paled. “We have to regroup. Come up with a plan. Having the advantage puts me in control. Us. We get control. Come on, darling, find us an exit.”
Isis peered over the dash to ascertain where they were, then returned to her safe slouch, using a finger to trace the route despite the speed they were going. “Head toward May 15 Bridge. Keep right at the fork.”
“I’m going to change lanes at the last possible second to take that exit, so hang on.”
“When am I not freaking hanging on?” she asked rhetorically, bracing her hands and feet. The dented Mercedes came alongside, the car obviously built with a few extras, just like the Jeep. Thorne’s window spiderwebbed with a dull thud and crack. Isis let out a shocked shriek as she saw the bullet, clearly visible, embedded inches from his head.
“Bulletproof glass, relax.”
“This is relaxed,” she muttered dryly, flinching every time they were slammed by the other vehicle.
Thorne yanked the steering wheel hard left. He grinned with satisfaction, hearing the Mercedes’s fender crumple. He could barely see a thing though the shattered glass, but he managed to use the Jeep like a plow and shove the Mercedes onto the center divide and oncoming traffic. “Where to?”
IT WAS EXTREMELY DIFFICULT to read in a vehicle moving ninety miles an hour. Isis glanced—once—at the speedometer and didn’t look again. In fact, despite the bumping and high speed, she’d rather be trying to read the small print on the map than watching the means of her imminent death.
The Nile ran on their right. “Stay on Kornish El Nile.” There was a bullet embedded in his side window. Isis inched lower in her seat until she was practically sitting in the small space on the floor. Dear God, this was crazy. Stuff like this didn’t happen to people like her.
She considered getting out her camera to take a picture of the bullet lodged so close to Thorne’s head, for proof or something, but opted to hang on for dear life instead.
The Jeep made a right-angle turn. Even though she couldn’t see the cars Thorne cut off, she heard the strident, annoyed horns, the screeching brakes, and imagined she smelled the burning rubber of skidding tires. Bowing her head, she promising herself that she couldn’t die until she’d ticked a few more things off her bucket list.
“In three blocks, turn left onto the Kornish El Nile—no. Sorry! I mean left on—” She covered the bloodcurdling scream induced by a jarring slam to her side of the car with a hard palm across her mouth. Freaking out wasn’t going to help Connor elude these people.
“Left on Manzal Kobri,” she managed to say, sweat trickling down her temples and between her breasts.
“Grab the steering wheel.”
Her stomach knotted with apprehension. “What? No, I don’t think s—”
“Get over here and take the wheel. Damn it, move. Now!”
At his commanding voice, she lunged across the seat until her face was buried in his lap, then curled her fingers around the bottom of the wheel. Her glasses bit into the bridge of her nose.
“Somehow,” Thorne said dryly, his hard thigh muscles flexing under her cheek, “this isn’t what I pictured for our first time.”
“Cut the jokes.” Her voice was muffled. “Now not only can’t I see, I can’t breathe! What are you doing?”
He wrapped his fingers around hers to keep the wheel steady. “Just like that. We’re not likely to end up in the river…”
Funny man popped open his door. The wind whipped her hair around her head and his hips. The sound of tires against pavement mere feet away terrified her. “Oh, my God, Thorne, what the hell are you—”
He leaned out, way out—until her nose was smashed against his hip bone. He fired a barrage of shots. Each blast made her flinch and squeeze her eyes more tightly shut.
He reached back to adjust her stiff fingers. God. He wasn’t holding on to anything!
“Damn it, Isis! Keep it steady!” His thigh muscle flexed under her cheek as he manipulated the accelerator. Not easing up, but pressing his foot flat to the floor.
The stink of car exhaust and gas fumes, and the thrum of the tires speeding on the road surrounding them, were nothing compared to the terror she felt holding that steering wheel in a death grip as they raced along blindly.