One of my wheels hit a slick spot. When I’d regained traction I said, “I’ll call you back, Stacey. I promise.”

And with that, I hung up.

Her unsolicited declaration had filled me with so much excitement every nerve in my body was tingling.

But I needed to focus. The road was steep, and there was a sharp curve ahead.

39

They never searched me.

Because they’d only seen me using the shotgun I’d taken from Tori, they assumed I was unarmed. And because she’d beaten the snot out of me, they assumed I was too exhausted to fight. But no one thought to rummage through my pockets.

None of them know about Billy’s knife.

There is no room for error in this. I will only get one chance.

I roll onto my left side, putting as much weight as I can onto my shoulder, and lifting my knees as if trying to touch my chest with them. Even if I were uninjured and had spent half an hour stretching, this contortion would hurt. As it is, I have to crunch my molars together to keep from making a noise.

I move my conjoined wrists around my lower back, feeling the edged cobra cuffs cutting into the skin under my wristwatch. I am trying to reach around my torso to slide my fingers into my front pocket. I hold briefly onto my belt, but as soon as I release my grip, my hands slide back again.

“Those lights up there,” Tina says from the front seat. “That’s them.”

“I see it.”

The SUV slows and the engine groans as Tanner downshifts. Then the vehicle begins to really bounce. We’re going off road again, and it’s almost more than the shocks and struts can bear. Whatever our destination, it’s well off the beaten path. Tempest Dow wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of bringing me to her alive if she was worried about some luckless deputy spoiling her long-awaited revenge.

I’m almost out of time. It’s not enough to get hold of the blade. I also need an opening that’ll allow me to use it.

Again I contort my arms behind my pelvis. My right hand inches along the still-wet pants fabric until I feel the copper rivet at the seam. Making an extra effort, I hook my index finger in the coin pocket.

I roll onto my back again, keeping my finger snagged, pulling the whole pocket open. The Suburban jostles as it goes up and over a rock or frost heave. The movement causes the knife to slide out an inch. I feel metal touch my finger.

Better not to hesitate. I make one final effort to pry open the pocket. The pain is excruciating.