Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [117]
Right. I threw the phone in the seat.
Confused, angry, heartsick, I cracked the window. The cab resembled a meat locker but the cold did the trick and kept me from crying.
As I fought for control, the idiot warning buzzed in my head because the snow was falling so furiously I couldn’t see five feet past my front grill. In my fit of pique, I’d taken the road less traveled.
Great plan in a snowstorm, Einstein.
I slowed down. Had I missed the turnoff? Within thirty seconds of dropping my speed, something rammed into the back end. My truck sailed forward; my seat belt jerked me back.
Damn. I touched the brakes and kept the pickup on the road.
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The vehicle probably hadn’t seen me until they were right up on my taillights. I pulled over to see if the driver of the other car was all right, when I was rear-ended again. Harder.
Snow flew, covering the windshield completely as I nose-dived through the ridge left by the snowplows. I hit the gas and jerked the wheel to the left. No way was I going to get high centered or stuck in the goddamn ditch again and have to walk back to the ranch and ask my dad or DJ for help. No freakin’ way. I bounced off the embankment, busted through another ridge of snow, and came to a dead stop. I slammed the truck in park, unbuckled, and threw open the door, ready to give this asshole a piece of my mind. My feet hit the ground and I stalked back to where I saw a faint glimmer of headlights.
“What is the matter with you?”
No answer.
When I reached the Blazer, sitting crossways in the road, I realized the driver’s side door was wide open. What the hell? Where was the driver?
“Hello?” I heard the crunch of snow behind me and I twirled around.
Right into the barrel of a gun.
I looked up.
Jackal stared back.
Then he backhanded me.
I tasted blood before everything went black. 417
I came to lying in the middle of the road. The side of my face dug into the gravel and ice. Someone was slapping my other cheek. Cold liquid pooled in the corner of my mouth.
“Wake up. Jesus. I didn’t hit you that fuckin’
hard.”
I flinched. Shivered. Blinked. Didn’t help. I saw nothing but white spots.
“Ain’t as tough as everyone claims, are you, bitch?”
When I didn’t respond, a hiking boot connected with my ribs. I curled into a ball and tried to protect my head.
“Get her up. Didja get her cell phone out of her truck?”
“Right here.”
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The female voice sounded familiar. Somehow I managed to open my eyes and breathe through the bone-chilling fear.
Jackal loomed over me. “Get up. I ain’t got all goddamn day.”
I pushed into a sitting position. The cheek that’d been pressed to the road burned. The other cheek where Jackal smacked me smarted. I wasn’t wearing gloves so my hands were red and stung like a million needles were jabbing them. I turned my head and spit a mixture of blood and saliva on the snowy ground. Not teeth, though.
“You sure ain’t as mouthy when Martinez ain’t around to protect you.”
“It’s a little hard for me to talk when I’m knocked out cold.”
He laughed. “True. You scared?”
I nodded. My life meant nothing to him and he wouldn’t hesitate to end it.
“Good.” Jackal laughed again. “On your knees.”
I rolled up, concentrating on the pain of the rocks from the gravel road digging into my kneecaps and not the fear causing my whole body to shake.
“Let’s do something fun.” To the unseen woman off to the left Jackal said, “Is there a camera on her phone?”
“Yep.”
I didn’t have a camera on my phone. Wait. The phone Big Mike gave me did. She hadn’t grabbed my 419
phone. She’d grabbed the one I’d tossed in the seat.
“Figure out how to work it.” Jackal hunkered down in front of me. “Which number is his? Don’t lie to me, it’ll just make it that much worse on you.”
“Listed as TM.” Jackal’s stench, pot smoke, greasy skin, dirty hair, surrounded me, but I didn’t look at him. Until he bunched my ponytail in his fist and jerked my head up, holding the gun to my temple.
“Pay attention.”
“What do you want?”
“See, your old man took something that don’t belong to him. I want it back. And