Page 216 of Micah
I run.
Boots pounding concrete as I tear across the shop floor.
The commercial line rings again just as I snatch up the receiver.
“Sloane?”
“No, this is John.”
Unknown voice.
Male.
Breathing hard.
“Sorry, is this Jersey Iron Ranch?”
My pulse spikes.
“Yeah.”
“We just came from The Watering Hole and there's a lady there in trouble?—”
I don't hear another word.
The receiver is already swinging on its cord as I drop it.
I'm moving before my brain catches up.
Truck.
Keys.
Phone.
My fingers are dialing before I'm behind the wheel.
Benji answers first.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Sloane.”
One word.
That's all it takes.
“What?”
“She's in trouble.”
The engine roars to life.
I throw the truck into reverse so hard gravel sprays across the yard.
“There's something wrong with the cell tower?—”
Sawyer joins the call.
