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Chapter 93
Chapter 93:
“Damnit p>
He kicked the stone pillar, pain shooting up his leg. He felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of panic. It wasn’t just anger anymore. It was a cold dread settling in his stomach.
Seraphina hobbled up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Let her go, Liam. She’s just being dramatic. Come back inside p>
Liam peeled her arms off him. “Get off me p>
“Liam p>
“I’m going to the office,” he lied. He needed to drive. He needed to find her.
Skye was on the highway now. The speedometer climbed.
Sixty.
Seventy.
Eighty.
The wind whipped her hair around her face. She felt alive. She felt free.
She approached the exit ramp for the Oracle safe house. It was a sharp curve.
She lifted her foot from the accelerator and pressed the brake.
The pedal went all the way to the floor.
It was soft. Mushy. Useless.
Skye’s breath hitched. She pumped it again.
Nothing.
The curve was coming up fast. The concrete barrier loomed large, a gray wall of death.
“No,” she whispered.
She gripped the wheel, her knuckles white, as the car hurtled toward the edge.
Time didn’t slow down. That was a lie people told in movies. Time sped up, becoming a blur of sensory overload. The concrete wall rushed toward her at eighty miles an hour.
𝘗DF𝘀 𝗈𝗻 𝘣𝘦𝗹𝗻𝘰𝗏е𝗅𝗌.с𝘰𝘮
Skye didn’t scream. Her mind, honed by the memories of a past life and the cold logic of the Oracle, snapped into a different gear. Panic was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Handbrake. Downshift. Friction.
She didn’t yank the emergency brake; that would send the car into a death spin at this speed. Instead, she slammed the gearstick down. Fourth to third. The engine screamed in protest, the RPM needle burying itself in the red. The car lurched, speed dropping, but not enough.
Third to second.
The transmission groaned, a horrible grinding sound of metal eating metal. The rear tires locked for a microsecond, the car fishtailing wildly. Skye fought the steering wheel, turning into the skid, her forearms burning with the effort.
She was still moving too fast.
She saw the gravel shoulder on the right.
Friction.
She jerked the wheel. The car slammed off the pavement and onto the loose stones. The noise was deafening—rocks pinging against the undercarriage like bullets. The resistance slowed the car, dragging it back.
