Secrets in the Shadows by Jenna Black
Bastard. Why was he gunning for her? Who the hell was he? A drunk? Someone trying to rob her? An angry ex-husband of a client? She should have called the cops when she’d noticed him following her. She should have listened to her gut. She should have—
Her car spun sideways. Out of control. Toward the guardrail.
Mandy slammed on the brakes. Bad move. Her tires squealed and skidded on the slick pavement. Clenching the wheel, she fought the spin. But her car careened sideways, smashed into the guardrail. Concrete crumbled. Horns blared.
Her airbag exploded in her face.
She slapped it down, choking on the powder in the air, and opened her eyes. And gasped.
Pitched downward, her car dangled about twenty feet over the water below. Through her front windshield she had a bird’s-eye view of rippling river, of rain drops plunking into the water and muttering a warning. She could be next.
Oh … my … God. She screamed. Started to claw at her seatbelt to escape the car before she plummeted.
Somewhere above and behind her, an engine roared. Craning her neck, she glanced over her shoulder, praying that help was coming.
Wrong again.
The silver pickup rammed her car a second time. Fear slicked across her skin. He didn’t want to rob her. He didn’t want to kidnap her. He wanted to kill her.
So she had to stop him. But how? It wasn’t like she had a weapon in her front seat and could pull out a gun and shoot him. Or had a rope handy. So what could she do?
Behind her, the guardrail cracked and metal pieces rained into the river. Her car slid, teetered. The truck crashed into her again, shoving her vehicle all the way over the lip.
No. Please … no.
She had no time to release her seat belt. No time to escape. No time to pray.
Her car plunged toward the water, flipping, somersaulting through the air. Mandy fought blackness. Nausea. Dizziness. The terror of not knowing up from down.
Bracing her hands on the wheel, holding her breath, closing her eyes, she froze. But even as Mandy’s ears roared and the water rushed up to smack her, she gulped air. She was so not ready to die. She had to survive. For Gabrielle. It was bad enough that her precious baby girl didn’t have a father. She couldn’t lose her mother.
Whatever it took to make it back home to her daughter, she would do. If that meant turning herself into Lara Croft, so be it. If it meant coming up with a plan, she’d be brilliant. If it meant gritting her teeth to avoid biting her tongue, she wouldn’t so much as utter one yelp.
But inside, she howled. She was not going to die. She was not going to die. She was not—
Her car punched through the water, slamming the air from her lungs and bruising her, wrenching her. But even in pain, surely she still could swim.
If only the car would float long enough for her to leap into the water. But it didn’t float. She sank with a giant sucking noise, as if the river were taking her to hell.
Cold water cascaded over her, hissing like a deadly sea creature. Blinded in the dark, panic rose up to choke her, and she pounded her palms on the window.
Wait a minute. What was she doing? Dizzy, confused, she finally figured out her car was upside down and sinking toward the river bottom. And she didn’t have the strength to break the glass with her bare hands.
Still, she had options: Get out or drown.
Fighting her seat belt, she fumbled and finally released the buckle, placed her hands above her head to break her fall. She toppled sideways and ended up sitting on the ceiling in a deepening pool of water.
Unable to see, dazed, Mandy groped for the door. She touched smooth leather. Idiot. The handle was upside down from this angle.
Everything’s backwards.
Her fingers finally closed on the handle, and with desperate strength, she yanked, then shoved the door with her shoulder. But it wouldn’t budge. Too much water pressure from outside.
Damn it to hell. She had to get out.
Trapped like a crab in a trap, she clawed the door, hammered the window with her fists. But she was going nowhere.
Water poured in. Her air bubbled out. The car kept plunging. Inexorably, with a moan of tortured metal, it settled on the bottom, the roof denting beneath her. Water hissed past her feet, her waist, her neck.
She would not shut down. Or break. She would not quit. Gabby needed her. Besides, she hadn’t scheduled dying into her day planner. And no way in hell was she letting that SOB get away with murder.
Think.
Could she escape after the pressure equalized? After the car’s interior totally filled with water? At the idea, terror crawled into her veins and cramped her muscles.
But if her only chance at life was to wait for the water to rise over her head, she would take it. Immediately she felt better for devising a strategy.
Yeah, right. As if the best planning in the world would stop her from becoming fish food.
Water rose past her chin, and she lunged upward and banged her head. Easy. Ignoring the pain, she tilted her head back, clamped her mouth shut and breathed through her nostrils. She didn’t care if every cell in her body urged her to flee, if she wanted to open the door, she had to remain still and wait for the water close over her head.
For Gabby, thankfully safe in her grandmother’s care, Mandy would keep it together. For Gabby, she allowed the water to swallow her alive. For Gabby, she waited for the water to rise, with her nose pressed against the floorboards, gasping in the very last pocket of air.
Water closed over her mouth, nose, and eyes, filled the entire car, draping her in wet blackness.
Now. Make your move now.
Mandy dived down to the handle. Shoved. The door wouldn’t move.
Oxygen dwindling, mind whirring like a propeller, Mandy refused to cry. Every good lawyer had a plan B. And she was a damn good attorney.
Come on. What did she need?
Leverage?
Yes.
Grabbing the wheel with one hand, the handle with the other, she planted her feet against the door. Licks of pain shooting through her, straining every muscle, she thrust with her back and calves and thighs.
The door gave with a pop.
About damn time.
Rushing out, she banged her shoulder on the doorjamb. Lungs already on fire, head pounding as if she’d drunk too many margaritas, she kicked hard for the surface.
I’m coming, Gabby. Mommy’s coming.
Mandy’s chest ached, but she fought against the urge to open her mouth for air.
Keep kicking.
Overhead, rays of light beckoned with tempting promise. So close. But, so far …
Notes
1 Forthcoming
This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
SECRETS IN THE SHADOWS
Copyright © 2007 by Jenna Black
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
eISBN 9781466810495
First eBook Edition : January 2012
ISBN-13: 978-0-765-35716-8
ISBN-10: 0-765-35716-X
First Edition: May 2007
Jenna Black, Secrets in the Shadows