I struggled for what seemed like hours as the dark haired man dragged me to the Cadillac. I jerked and kicked and tried desperately to apply what I remembered of my uncle's self-defense training, but it was no use. The second man who had chased us through the neighborhood hopped out of the SUV to assist his partner while Cadillac Man sat behind the wheel, waiting. I screamed for help, hoping, praying that a real police officer would hear me, but one of my captors quickly slapped a calloused hand over my mouth to muffle me.

With one man grabbing my flailing legs, and the other keeping a firm hold on my arms and torso, they hurled me into the back of the Cadillac and the dark haired man made quick work of wrapping masking tape around my ankles and over my mouth. He proceeded to tape my already cuffed wrists, too. I continued wriggling with all my might until he slammed the trunk shut. But I wasn't about to admit defeat. I had to find a way out of there.

I surveyed the inside of the vehicle. The carpet was filthy, which didn't surprise me a bit. Beside me sat a pile of rope, a bag of cable ties, three rolls of masking tape, and an empty water bottle.

Cadillac Man floored the accelerator, tires squealing as we drove away. I was tossed back and forth in the trunk with every fast turn the vehicle made. The water bottle was jolted up and hit my arm when we ran over a curb. I was thankful it was empty, or that might not have felt too good.

I could hear the men talking as we drove, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. They'd fixed a separating wall inside the vehicle, a barrier between the trunk and the rest of the Escalade. I couldn't see them either, but I wondered if they could see me. The separator resembled the blackened window in the police station interrogation room.

I rolled onto my back, scooting up against the separator. The glass-like material was cold and I shivered. I tried to keep my cool and continued scanning my surroundings. I was surprised they'd had yet to ditch this vehicle. The bullet holes and dents were so obvious. Cadillac Man was pretty damn brazen to push his luck like that. The police were probably looking for the Escalade after viewing the security footage from Marty's Car Mart – that is, unless they'd had time to alter that tape, too, the same way they'd apparently doctored the footage from Ron's shooting range. If they were capable of doing all that, it made me cringe at the thought of what else they might be able to get away with.

I stayed lying down against the barrier, not wanting them to see me, if they could. I was humiliated enough already and this was the closest thing I had to hiding in a dark hole for the time being. The windows were so heavily tinted; I could only see through the bullet holes.

Finally, the Cadillac rolled to a stop. I could hear muffled laughter and the doors slamming when the men filed out of the vehicle. I held my position, trying to stay as far back as I could. I expected the dark haired man to lift the hatch any second and snatch me up again. Although my ankles were bound, I fully intended to fling my legs every which way. With any luck, I might kick one of them in the balls.

I strained to listen, trying to guess when they would come for me, but I couldn't hear their voices anymore. What was going on? I could hear traffic. Lots of traffic. And some sort of clicking sound like the clap that gas pumps make when they finish fueling.

I sat up, awkwardly scooting on my knees toward the back window. Peeking out through one of the bullet holes, I could see that we'd stopped at a gas station. There didn't appear to be any of my captors around, though. They must've left the Cadillac to fuel up while they went inside the convenience store.

I was alone. Now was my chance to do something – anything – to get free!

My eyes darted around the trunk again but there was nothing that could unbind my limbs. Then I took another look at the bullet riddled window. There was a hole that had cracked the glass just right, leaving a sharp, pointy opening. It was a long shot, given the short amount of time I had to escape before they returned, but it was worth a try.

I brought my bound wrists up to the window and began raking the tape over the glass. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the tape finally started to tear. I vigorously continued until the tape was completely severed, and then ripped the next piece of tape off my mouth. I took one huge, deep breath, finally able to breathe better, and went to work on my ankles.

I couldn't maneuver my body well enough to use the sharp point of glass for my ankles. Instead, I struggled to pull my arms under my ass and around my legs, bringing my wrists from behind my back to in front of me. I hurried to rip the tape apart with my still-cuffed hands. The material was tough to tear, but finally came off. My legs were free!

I listened intently before making my next move. They must've still been inside the store. I could hear people talking nearby, but it didn't sound like their voices.

Mustering up enough courage, I reached for the safety lever that would open the hatch. Nothing happened. I jerked on it over and over. Still nothing. The dark haired bastard must have locked the trunk. I eyed the battered window. This was my only option now. I crossed my fingers that the glass had been weakened enough by the bullets.

I tried beating my fist against the glass where the biggest holes were, but it wasn't working. Improvising, I flopped onto my back and raised my legs into the air, pounding both my feet against the window with as much force as I could conjure. After the third attempt, it began to crack. Yes! A new shot of adrenaline fueled harder kicks and I beat against the glass with every ounce of strength I had. Finally, it shattered.

I bounced onto my knees again and looked out at my surroundings. It was midday. Clouds had rolled in and it looked like it was about to pour rain. I didn't recognize the area or the gas station. To my surprise, no one had noticed me breaking out the window. The nearest customer was at the far end of the station.

I sized up my exit. The window hadn't busted out completely. Rather, I'd made a big hole in the center of it. It was just big enough for me to squeeze through, but it wouldn't be easy.

The sound of the men's voices shot fear through me. I only had approximately fifteen seconds to get away! They'd probably still see me run off.

Throwing caution to the wind, I threw a leg out the hole, stepping on the bumper and hanging onto the bottom of the window for balance. The sharp edges dug into my palms and I could feel blood dripping down my hands. I ignored the fiery pain in my skin and pulled my other leg through. Their voices were coming closer. There was no way I could get away without being seen.

I remembered Joey – how fearless and calm he'd always appeared in the face of danger. I hadn't understood it then, but I did now. Joey wasn't really fearless. He'd been just as scared as I was. But masking his terror had given him the extra confidence boost he needed to push himself further and keep us both safe. I had to be like Joey. It was the only way. If I gave into my inhibitions, I would've done all this for nothing.

I leaped from the bumper and ran as fast and as hard as my legs would carry me in the direction of the lone vehicle at the other end of the gas pumps. While I'd been climbing out the window, the customer had walked into the convenience store, leaving his car running at the pump.

I could hear the men yelling and footsteps pounding hard against the pavement behind me. I could practically feel Cadillac Man's breath on the back of my neck. They were right behind me! I wasn't going to make it into the vehicle in time to get away. They'd reach me before I could get inside!

Suddenly a sports car blaring obnoxious music squealed into the lot, cutting right between us and slowing the men down just long enough for me to get to the car in time. I thanked my lucky stars that the owner had left it running, because unlike Joey, I didn't have the first clue how to hotwire a vehicle. I locked the doors and hammered the accelerator, tires screeching when I peeled out onto the road, narrowly missing collisions with oncoming traffic.

Cadillac Man had already reclaimed his place behind the wheel and the other two men hopped in the vehicle as he sped through the lot after me.

I tried to remember how Joey had managed to lose our followers and I mimicked my memory of him, gliding in between cars, cutting people off, running red lights, and trying to keep at least four car lengths between us. My lips stung from ripping the tape off and every turn of the wheel was a struggle with my wrists still cuffed, but I didn't have time to worry about that. I had to put some distance between us, pronto!

I grimaced when I swerved around a delivery truck and I could feel tiny shards of the window glass embedded in my still-bleeding palms. The more time passed, the further back the Cadillac was in my rearview mirror. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when I could no longer see the big black SUV. Now I knew how Joey felt when he outran someone. It gave you a nice jolt of confidence. I wasn't ready to stop running yet, though. I may have gotten away, but I was still in the same city as the Cadillac and that was too close for comfort.

I finally came to a stop at a red light after speeding through several miles of traffic. I was waiting to turn left where I saw a sign pointing to the highway. I didn't know where the hell I was going to go. I just wanted to get as far away from Cadillac Man and his minions as possible.

I thought back to the regretful look in Brad's eyes. How dare he betray his partner and hand me over to the bad guys! How dare he! I wondered what Richard Lux or Cadillac Man had used to buy his alliance. It was a shame that Brad had turned out to be a crooked cop. He could've done so much more with his life. He could've been a better person – a better partner. Joey was going to be so hurt when he found out what Brad had done. Still, I couldn't forget the guilt on his face when he'd walked away, leaving me with my fake custody officer. I knew he had a heart in there somewhere. If he didn't, he wouldn't have felt bad for what he'd done. I almost felt bad for him, myself. But Brad had had every opportunity to protect me and he'd still chosen to side with the enemy. There was no excuse. I couldn't forgive that, whether he regretted his decision or not.

Suddenly, my getaway car was thrown into the car beside me, tearing me away from my thoughts about Brad. The driver's side window had shattered and I was covered in pieces of broken glass. I looked to my right. The woman in the next vehicle was staring back at me in shock and horror. I looked to my left. The battered front end of that damn Escalade was right up against my driver's side. I couldn't get out. I was wedged between two vehicles, disabling my ability to open any of the doors. I should've known it wouldn't be that easy to get away.

Cadillac Man stepped out of the vehicle and started making his way toward me. He was dressed in his usual black ensemble, but this time I got a really good look at his face. He had a huge scar that ran the length of his right cheek, from the side of his chin to his temple. His eyes were dark. Darker than those of the man who had pretended to be my custody officer. He was heartless. There was no doubt about it. His face was beet red in obvious rage over my escape. He looked like he was ready to tear me limb from limb.

When Cadillac Man started to reach over the edge of his hood toward me, I slammed my foot on the gas. I clutched the steering wheel as hard as I could, feeling the shards of glass dig deeper into my palms. If he got ahold of me, I could at least hang on to the wheel for dear life. He'd have a damn hard time prying my hands off of it.

Cadillac Man leaned over, grabbing ahold of my arm and jerked me toward him hard. My elbow plowed against the car door and I yelped in pain, flooring the pedal again.

"You thought you could outrun me?" he laughed bitterly. "You thought wrong, bitch! Now, let go!"

The woman next to me had crawled out her passenger side and was nowhere to be found. Maybe she'd run off to call her insurance company. Hopefully, she was calling the police!

My hopes were shattered when I caught a glimpse of Cadillac Man's dark haired accomplice, still in his fake police uniform, talking to the woman. He was either pretending to be a cop, still, or telling her she better keep her mouth shut.

The third man attempted to reach through the busted out back window. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked. Cadillac Man was leaning in closer now, trying with all his might to pull me from the car.

Where was Joey when I needed him?

I kept pounding the gas pedal and the tires kept screeching. I could see smoke billowing up on either side of the vehicle from the rubber burning. Still, I pressed on.

The foul smell of the smoke was just enough to get Cadillac Man coughing, loosening his grip on my arm. Just then, I felt the car move. It may have only been a foot, but it was progress.

I floored it again. The car inched its way closer to freedom. I could hear sirens in the distance.

"Hey, Boss!" said the man hunched over my back window. "The cops are coming! We've got to get out of here!"

"Not 'til I get this bitch so tied up, she'll never even dream of escaping again!" shouted Cadillac Man, some of his spit landing on me.

I pounded the accelerator one last time and the vehicle finally shoved itself free from between the others. Cadillac Man jerked his arm out of the window just in time to keep from getting injured when I sped away again. He jumped back into the Escalade and tore out after me again, leaving the fake cop at the scene. The other man, however, was still hanging onto the back window, half in and halfway hanging out of the car.

Both lanes were open and the nearest car was over one hundred feet ahead. I jerked the wheel side to side, gliding back and forth across both lanes, trying to sling the man out into the street, but he just wouldn't let go. I could see in what was left of the side mirror that he was trying to pull the rest of his body into the backseat. He grabbed ahold of the back of my hair again and I let out a scream when he pulled too hard, likely ripping some of my hair out.

"Where do you think you're going?" he hollered, his voice raspy like he'd been smoking for decades. "Mack will catch up. Just you wait, bitch! He ain't that far behind!"

I could see the Cadillac in the rearview mirror, but he'd been delayed by an eighteen wheeler turning.

"Is that his name?" I yelled back. "The Cadillac driver?"

"What's it to you?" he snarled, tugging at my hair again. "Pull this car over right now if you want to live!"

"Something tells me my mortality rate will drop if I do that!" I raised my voice again, blasting through another red light. "I think I'd rather take my chances!"

A loud crash behind us signaled the Cadillac plowing into another car as Cadillac Man – or Mack, whatever his name was – bolted through the light, too. He didn't stop. He was gaining on me.

I watched the odometer needle pass seventy. I could see the on ramp to the interstate. Just a little further.

Bang! My back window shattered and the man gave a howl when glass hit his face. Cadillac Man was shooting at us!

I could see flashing lights further back. The police were in pursuit, tailing the Cadillac. I prayed that would slow him down or possibly even stop him. Something had to give!

The shooting didn't stop. Another bang. Another hit to my getaway car.

"Damnit, stop shooting, ya bastard!" shouted the man behind me.

"Why don't you just jump?" I yelled. "Just let go!"

"You wish!"

I looked at him in the rearview. His face was all bloody now from Cadillac Man shooting out the back window. I hadn't noticed until now how young he was. He couldn't have been more than twenty! Why would he want to ruin his life like this?

"You're young! Why are you letting yourself get mixed up in all this? You could-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! Stop the fucking car!" he hollered, beating a fist against the back of my seat.

I jerked the car onto the on ramp. He still held on. This guy was relentless!

The Cadillac turned a few seconds later, keeping right behind me, just barely avoiding sideswiping a FedEx truck. A flood of squad cars, lights flashing and sirens blaring, turned right behind him. This was unbelievable!

Bang! Cadillac Man shot again! Then I heard other gunshots. The police were shooting at the Cadillac!

Another bang!

"Damnit!" shouted the man behind me.

He gave a pained gasp and I realized he'd been shot. Now he was trying even harder to hang on.

I scanned the shoulder to see if it was wide enough for me to use it as another lane and give him somewhere to let go without getting run over.

"I'm going to pull onto the shoulder!" I yelled to him. "You can drop off there!"

"You're crazy!" he yelled back. "Just stop the fucking car!"

I tried to maneuver through the other vehicles, getting closer to the shoulder, but before I could make it far enough over, Cadillac Man fired again. I felt a weight lifted off the car and looked to see that the man had been shot again and it had caused him to let go before I could get him to safety. He'd landed in the middle of a lane on the interstate. I tore my eyes away quickly before I could see what would undoubtedly become of him.

I swallowed back what felt like vomit rising up my throat at the thought. He'd been so young. He could've done anything with his life. As much as I wanted to hate the man for what he'd done to me, I had to pity him. If only he'd taken a different direction with his choices. He could be in college or working a prosperous job right now. Instead, he was lying dead in the road. I felt sick.

I tried to focus my attention back on losing the Cadillac again. I took an exit onto another highway, and after several twists and turns, I could no longer see the Cadillac or hear the sirens. I was finally in the clear – for now. They'd be back. They always were. Just like bad breath.

I eventually came to a stop, concealing myself behind a rundown motel, similar to the one Joey and I had stayed at the night before. I didn't have any money on me. I couldn't get a room. I'd have to sleep in the car, if I was going to sleep at all. But first, I had to work on getting out of the damn handcuffs.