Chapter 12 - The Pursuit on the Highway
The rain beat down in heavy, relentless sheets against the windshield of Maya’s SUV as it tore down the dark interstate. The headlights cut through the gloom, illuminating the slick asphalt ahead. In the passenger seat, Chloe gripped the armrest tightly, her eyes glued to the real-time GPS tracking app running on her phone.
"His phone signal is pinging off the cell tower near the regional airport exit," Chloe said over the sound of the wipers slapping against the glass. "He's heading for the private aviation terminal. He must have chartered a flight."
Maya's hands were locked onto the steering wheel, her knuckles white. She wore her jacket over her maroon top, her mind completely focused on the road ahead. The betrayal, the anger, the shock—it had all condensed into a cold, lethal drive for justice.
"He's not getting on a plane," Maya said, her voice unnervingly calm.
"Maya, be careful," Chloe urged, glancing nervously at her. "My brother said the police are five minutes behind us, but if Marcus is armed, we shouldn't try to confront him alone."
"I'm not going to wrestle him, Chloe," Maya replied coldly. "I'm just making sure he has nowhere left to run."
Ten minutes later, the brightly lit gates of the private airfield came into view through the sheets of rain. Chloe pointed toward a sleek, black sedan parked illegally near the perimeter fence next to an idling twin-engine charter plane.
"That's his rental," Chloe said, pointing. "Look, he's walking toward the boarding ramp right now."
Maya didn't hesitate. She slammed on the brakes, cutting the steering wheel hard to the left, and drove her SUV directly across the gravel access road, blocking the black sedan's only exit path.
The SUV came to a jarring halt. Before Chloe could even process what was happening, Maya threw the door open and stepped out into the freezing rain.
"Maya, wait!" Chloe yelled, unbuckling her seatbelt and scrambling out after her.
Across the tarmac, Marcus—dressed in his black t-shirt and a heavy leather jacket—stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around, his braids blowing in the fierce wind, his face contorting in shock as he saw Maya marching toward him across the wet concrete.
"Maya! What are you doing?!" Marcus shouted, holding his hands up defensively as the pilot of the charter plane waved frantically from the doorway of the aircraft.
"End of the line, Marcus," Maya shouted back, her voice cutting through the roar of the jet engines and the driving rain. She stood twenty feet away from him, completely unfazed by the storm.
Marcus took a step backward, looking frantically toward the blocked exit, then back at Maya. A desperate, charming smile flashed across his face—the same smile that had manipulated three different women for years.
"Come on, Maya. Let's talk about this," Marcus pleaded, taking a slow step forward. "We can work this out. I can give the money back. All of it."
"With what money? The money you stole from Sarah? Or the money you took from my sister?" Maya asked, stepping closer.
Before Marcus could answer, the wail of approaching police sirens echoed loudly in the distance, cutting through the night air as red and blue lights began flashing down the access road.
May you like
Marcus’s eyes widened with panic. He lunged sideways toward the open door of his rental car, but as he reached for the handle, a heavy hand grabbed him by the shoulder.
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