"Should I even ask why you know where they are?" John's voice was strained with anxiety, his arms tensing with each aggressive turn of the steering wheel.
"I installed a tracker on Lucielle's phone. I'm glad I did now."
"Jesus, Floyd. Does she even know?"
"Does it matter?" He snapped back, "Clearly it was a good call. Perhaps you should consider doing something similar."
John accelerated towards their destination, the car coming to an abrupt halt next to a flipped SUV that belonged to John a few minutes later.
They had been involved in both a car wreck and a shooting? How could his woman be okay? Floyd's throat constricted as he dashed from the Bugatti, calling out Lucielle's name.
There was no response as he lunged at the closed back door of the overturned SUV, managing to wrench it
