Chapter 146: Decoys and Crosshairs

Micah’s POV

I had never seen Noah drive this crazy in my entire life.

He had the accelerator slammed flat against the floorboards, the engine screaming as our car tore through the morning traffic.

He kept slamming his palm down on the steering wheel horn over and over, the blaring noise cutting through the streets as he swerved violently around minivans, delivery vans, and commuter buses.

Right behind us, clinging to our rear bumper like a shadow, was that dark blue sedan.

The blue car wasn’t just tailing us anymore. Every time Noah tried to cut across a lane, the blue car accelerated aggressively, its front bumper threatening to clip our rear fender.

My heart was lodged right in my throat. I swallowed hard against the dry ache in my mouth, both of my hands gripping the seatbelt strapped tightly across my chest. My knuckles were pale, my sneakers braced flat against the floor mats as the car lurched sideways.

"Micah! Are you buckled up back there?!" Noah’s sharp voice barked from the driver’s seat.

"Y-yes!" I shouted back over the roar of the tires. "I’m strapped in!"

Damon turned his head from the front passenger seat, crossing his arms with an offended scowl.

"You didn’t even bother to ask me, Captain," Damon complained, his voice dripping with mock hurt. "I’m sitting right next to you. Do my ribs not matter to you at all?"

I couldn’t believe this absolute idiot. We were being chased by armed killers at eighty miles an hour, and Damon Silver was still finding the energy to crack jokes.

Noah didn’t even glance at him. He yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, tires screeching against the asphalt as he barely squeezed our car between a concrete divider and a massive oncoming flatbed truck.

The truck’s horn blasted deafeningly right past Damon’s window.

Noah straightened out the wheel, his jaw locked tight as he finished his sentence without missing a beat:

"...I don’t give a fuck about you, Silver."

Damon rolled his eyes, letting out a loud groan. "Ouch. Right in the heart, Miller."

Noah ignored him, his cold eyes darting up to the rearview mirror. The blue sedan had swerved around the truck too, its tires smoking as it closed the gap again.

"Fuck," Noah cursed under his breath, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.

He reached into his jacket pocket with one hand, pulling out his sleek black smartphone. He couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the road for a single fraction of a second, so he tossed the phone straight across the center console into Damon’s lap.

"Call David," Noah ordered coldly.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Damon said.

Damon grabbed the device, held the screen up right in front of Noah’s face to trigger the facial recognition unlock, and quickly tapped the screen. He selected David’s contact and hit the speaker button.

The line beeped loudly three times through the car’s sound system.

"Hello, mas—"

"Those bastards are after me, David," Noah interrupted, not giving his butler time to finish his formal greeting.

David didn’t hesitate for a second. "I understand, master. I will deploy our security units immediately to your location."

"Do it now," Noah commanded, his voice dropping into a lethal, urgent tone. "Micah is in the car with me."

Sitting in the backseat, a sudden, warm heat flushed across my cheeks. Even in the middle of a high-speed chase, even while dodging death on the highway, his first thought, his only real priority, was making sure David knew I was in danger.

"Understood, master!" David replied, his tone turning dead serious. "I am dispatching the response team right now."

The line clicked dead.

Damon tossed the phone back onto the console, turning his head to stare at Noah’s side profile.

"Who the hell are those people behind us?" Damon demanded. "Are they Jenson’s goons or someone else?"

"It’s none of your business," Noah answered flatly, eyes glued to the asphalt.

"Noah..." I spoke up from the back seat, my voice trembling as I leaned forward against the front headrests. "Are they... are they going to kill us?"

The instant my voice reached his ears, the rigid, murderous tension in Noah’s face softened. His shoulders relaxed by a millimeter, and he glanced into the rearview mirror, meeting my terrified eyes.

"I doubt it, Micah," Noah said gently, his tone completely different from the way he spoke to Damon.

Beside him, Damon furrowed his brows, glaring at Noah in pure disbelief at the sudden change in attitude. Damon scoffed under his breath, shaking his head at the blatant favoritism, but kept his mouth shut.

"They have two possible motives," Noah explained, looking back to the road as he sped through a red light. "First, they could be George Jenson’s remaining crew. Sent to run us off the road, smash our car, and wear us out physically so we won’t be able to stand on the ice for the championship game at six tonight."

Noah’s voice suddenly turned pitch-black, a cold, venomous smirk curving across his lips.

"Or... our dear father sent them," Noah murmured. "Bernard could have dispatched this squad to drag me into an alley and finish the job his.... Well, they are either there to kidnap me... or to put a bullet through my skull."

My breath caught completely in my throat. I slapped both hands over my mouth, shaking my head in pure horror.

"N-no way..." I whispered, blinking rapidly as hot tears stung my eyes.

Bernard Miller was an absolute monster. Noah was the surviving son of the Whitfield family, the boy who had somehow escaped the flames twenty years ago when Bernard burned his estate down. The criminal syndicate had always wanted the Whitfield bloodline completely erased. Bernard keeping Noah around was already a massive risk, Bernard was using this chaotic wave of citywide abductions as an excuse to wipe Noah off the map.

"How do we outrun them?" I asked, my voice cracking with panic.

Noah shook his head, swerving around a slow sedan. "Heading toward the university campus is a terrible idea. There are too many students, too many cameras, and the campus guards work for Bernard anyway. Leading them straight to the Whitfield estate is just as bad. It exposes David’s base of operations."

"Then where the hell are we going, Captain?!" Damon snapped, gripping the door handle as the car leaned hard into a sharp right turn.

Before Noah could reply, his phone on the console rang loudly again.

Damon swiped the green icon instantly.

"Talk to me, David," Noah barked.

"Master, we are actively tracking your GPS coordinates," David’s voice boomed through the speakers. "Outrunning them on the current bypass will be impossible. There is a massive municipal traffic jam two miles ahead near the commercial bridge. You will be boxed in within four minutes."

Noah hissed a filthy curse through his teeth. "What’s the play?"

"We have deployed the contingency protocol," David stated smoothly. "We have arranged for a decoy vehicle and doppelg?ngers. A matching black car with two operatives matched to your and Sir Micah’s physical profiles is already moving into position—"

"Wait!" I yelled from the back seat, leaning toward the phone. "Damon is in the car with us too!"

A brief, dead silence hung on the other end of the line.

"Oh," David said, his aristocratic tone breaking slightly with mild surprise. "The young master never mentioned Mr. Silver was present. That makes three targets."

"I’m unforgettable, David, thank you for noticing," Damon grumbled sarcastically.

"Adjusting protocol now," David continued, typing rapidly on a keyboard in the background. "I have added a third operative to the decoy vehicle. Master, take the immediate exit for the abandoned underground freight terminal on 4th Street. Pull into Bay 12. The doppelg?nger vehicle will swap positions with you instantly and continue onto the highway to draw their pursuit. A secondary armored vehicle is already stationed inside Bay 14 for you to switch into."

"Understood, David," Noah said. "Send the terminal layout and access code to my screen ASAP!"

"Transmitting now, young mas—"

BANG!

A deafening, metallic crack shattered the morning air.

CRACK-SHATTER!

Our rear windshield exploded inward, raining tempered glass pellets across my shoulders and the back seat. A bullet punched a hole straight through the metal frame right between the two front headrests!

I froze completely. My eyes widened until they felt like they were going to tear out of my skull, a shrill, choked gasp dying in my throat.

"Shit!" Noah roared, ducking his head instinctively as glass showered his hair.

He wrenched the steering wheel to the right, zigzagging violently across the lanes to throw off their aim.

Damon whipped his head around, staring in terror at the shattered glass resting in my lap.

"Why the fuck are they shooting?!" Damon screamed, panic finally breaking through his arrogant mask. "I thought you said they only wanted to wear you out or kidnap you?!"

Noah slammed his foot down on the gas, his face twisted into an expression of raw, unhinged fury as he eyed the industrial off-ramp ahead.

"Plans change, Silver!" Noah snarled, his voice echoing off the dashboard like a death sentence. "Maybe they decided to kill every single one of us right here on the highway... after all, if we crash and burn, the police will just write it off as a tragic accident!"