Chapter 2 - The Gridlock
"Derek!" I screamed into the silent phone.
I ripped the phone away from my ear and dialed his number again.
It went straight to voicemail.
I slammed my fist against the steering wheel.
The cars in front of me hadn't moved an inch in three minutes.
I couldn't wait any longer.
I threw my car into park right in the middle of the crowded lane.
I grabbed my keys, kicked the door open, and started running down the shoulder of the highway.
Horns blared behind me, and angry drivers yelled out their windows.
I ignored all of them.
I was entirely focused on the two miles between me and my son.
My phone suddenly vibrated in my hand.
I answered it without looking at the screen.
"Derek, are you hit?" I gasped, sprinting past a line of stopped trucks.
"I'm good," his voice came back, sounding breathless.
"I ducked it."
"Who fired?" I asked.
"It wasn't Travis," Derek said.
"What do you mean it wasn't Travis?" I demanded.
"I just found Travis," Derek explained, his voice low and tight.
"He's bleeding out on the kitchen floor."
My mind raced to make sense of this information.
"Then who has the gun?" I asked.
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"I don't know," Derek whispered.
"But he's walking toward the hallway closet, and he's calling Noah's name."
