Takeover: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Series Book 1) by Lana Grayson Read Free Book Online

bikes roared beside me, and I reflexively jammed the breaks as one cut in front of the car. The rider dressed in solid black, and a shaded helmet covered his face. He swung toward me, and I drifted away, slowing enough to drop a gear. I made it too easy for them to chase me.
    My vision darkened as the cough squeezed my chest and head.
    Not good.
    I accelerated, but the bikes kept up—speeding, edging close, and risking their own lives to drift ever closer to my car.
    What did they want? To kill me? To steal the car?
    Hurting me would do nothing. They couldn’t even kidnap me, not when I was the only one able to release the ransom money.
    Oh, God.
    Ransom .
    It made sense. All the instability, all of Darius’s damn speeches. It was a chance for a criminal to make a move against me—especially if they thought Darius would seize control of the money and company.
    I was the easier target.
    God, that pissed me off.
    Dad didn’t raise me to be a victim. I hid weakness beneath the Atwood name, and I utilized my gifts to forge a stronger image. A better image. Sarah Atwood—gifted student, charming philanthropist...
    Lost and struggling daughter trying her damnedest to do what she could to keep her mother from slicing her wrists and the company from dissolving to our family’s greatest enemy.
    I jerked the wheel toward the asshole biker treading too close to my side. I scared him off, but not before the clatter echoed inside the car.
    The bang terrified me.
    They punctured my tires!
    I lurched the wheel again. Wasn’t a great idea. The busted tire shredded over the rim.
    The car fought and thudded. I waited until the last possible moment before shoving my foot flat against the break and riding through the dangerous shudder that skidded the remaining good tires.
    I twisted the wheel and accelerated. My turn from the main drag surprised them. The bikers screeched to a halt and spun to chase, but I had a quarter of a mile on them.
    Even with my lungs cramping and shoulders tightening, I found my way through the city in the darkness. The bikers hung back. They weren’t Anathema, and that gave me some hope. I sped past the opera house and industrial district, heading south instead of taking the bridge across the river. The town limits blurred by. A couple aching breaths delivered me a mile outside the city.
    The pain in my lungs didn’t ease until the first of our thigh-high corn sprouted in the distance. The night hid most of our property, but I didn’t care. I was close to home.
    In my breathless fog, I realized my mistake.
    Damn it. I led the bikers right to my house.
    The crushing sob didn’t emerge from my chest. I swallowed another harsh breath. I couldn’t turn around. Stopping so suddenly in the rattling car would allow my stalkers to dive from the bikes and get too close.
    The car rumbled. Something charred and filled the interior with acrid fumes.
    I couldn’t make it to the next town over on three wheels. Home seemed to be the best option, and I prayed I’d get there with enough of a head start to find Dad’s old hunting rifle. Maybe Mom knew how to shoot.
    Maybe Darius would be there?
    Fuck.
    I slammed my hand on the wheel.
    Jesus Christ. Crawling to Darius Bennett for help? How much oxygen had I lost?
    A flash preceded the second blowout. The back tire popped in a horrible burst of sparks and an explosive thud that stole complete control of the car. I spun out, fish-tailed, and bumbled over the road. The speedometer read a number somewhere between idiotic and absolute disaster.
    The car skidded off the shoulder. The wooden fence didn’t stop me. In the darkness—in my blinding, aching, oxygen-deprived fear—I slammed on the accelerator instead. My wheels tore into the acres of corn, and the stalks thudded and cracked and beat against my windshield.
    Screaming did nothing. The car careened into the dirt, sinking deep into our fields and rutting through the crops. My headlight shattered on the fence and what