Page 116 of Vandal Unbound

It was the one that had the tracker in it.

“Fight, Elsie. Fight.”

I do the same. Stamping on my captor’s foot, throwing my head back to head butt him, but he’s taller than I am, and I just hit his chest.

“Let her go,” I scream.

People turn. Someone even shouts. People start running to help. But the man throws Elsie into the back seat of the SUV like she weighs nothing. It begins to move as the man holding me releases me, shoving me forward so I stumble as he runs to climb into the moving vehicle.

Then it’s taking my baby away from me.

“No!”

I take five steps to run after it, then change direction and jump into my car. As soon as I’m inside, I’m swallowed by silence and the sound of my sobs. My hand shakes while I start the engine and pull out to follow the SUV as it swings onto the main road.

The paint-by-numbers and frosting containers slip off the front seat.

“Dial Vandal,” I say, and the ringtone blasts through my speakers.

“Let me guess, you’ve been overthinking the truck,” he says with a teasing tone.

“They took her,” I sob. “They have Elsie, Van. And I’m following them, but I don’t know what to do when I get to her.”

“Fuck, they have Elsie.” I hear a glass smash and echo of the ferocity in his curse. I don’t think the words were directed to me, and I pray he’s in the clubhouse. “Okay, Daze. Breathe. We’re coming.” I hear him shout to Havoc that he needs a helmet with an earpiece now.

The SUV weaves ahead of me. I’ve never been an aggressive driver, and I’m almost too scared to try the kind of maneuvers they’re pulling. What if I crash or spin? I’ll lose them and never see my daughter again. But if I let them pull away from me, she might disappear forever.

“Daisy, I’m getting on my bike. Keep them in sight. They probably know you’re following them but stay back a bit so they can’t try to take out your tires or something.”

Theor somethingworries me. I know he means me getting shot at instead of the tires. But I’m not losing sight of Elsie, no matter the cost.

“Gimme details,” Vandal says. “Where are you?”

“I left the camp. They’re headed for the Tamiami trail. If they get her to Miami, I’ll never see her again.”

The words come out on a sob.

“I’m about ten minutes behind you, but we’re riding fast. And it’s a long fucking ride to Miami. Even if they get on that road, we have lots of time to catch up to ‘em.”

“I can’t lose my baby.” The road signs blur with my tears.

“You won’t,” he says. “Under your seat is a gun. It’s legal, clean, and registered to me. I put it there in case you ever needed it. The code on the box is 0727, the day we met.”

“I’ve never fired a gun.”

“I’ll talk you through it. Just…stay fucking safe until I get there.”

Tears fall down my face, but I swipe them away. “Promise me you’ll get her back, no matter what happens to me.”

“Daze. We can’t talk like this. I’ll lose my shit. Let’s focus on getting you both home safe.”

“I need to know you’ll get her, Van. Please. Promise me.”

His voice cracks. “You have my word.”

The SUV is three cars ahead. I push through a yellow light as it turns red, and it earns me a honk from someone I don’t know. In spite of the situation, I find myself raising my hand in apology.

I start to recite details to Vandal to kill the minutes. A description of the SUV, the license plate, how many men I think are in the truck. I tell him landmarks, things I’m passing. Street names. Exits.