Terror rages on the streets of darkness in this gritty story of a street gang and a group of deranged militants. And a courageous woman emerges from darkness to soar with heroes.
Respected for their non-violent nature and generous work with troubled youth and the homeless, the Ricochet gang is forced into a war they don’t want when a delusional soldier marches into their territory looking for trouble.
When Camille escapes her ex-boyfriend during a car chase and ends up at a wrong address, the middle-age beauty and notorious street gang Ricochet discover they have a common enemy—a crazed GI named Mason determined to take back his woman at any cost, even if it kills them all.
Ricochet’s leaders end up fighting a ring of corruption that goes deeper than anyone realized. Rebar’s feelings for their unexpected hostage complicate matters. He doesn’t like holding her captive yet doesn’t want to lose her.
Murder, lies and betrayal redefine the laws of redemption, even for heroes. When a street gang goes up against a group of subversive terrorists, will perfect strangers become more? As Camille is forced through a traumatic ordeal, she rises above a dark past and finds heroes in the most unexpected places.
While still firing both guns, Camille wriggled her way into the car and behind the wheel. She slammed the door, tromped the gas and sped off. “C’mon, baby. Show me what you can do.”
Years of driving the backroads of rural PA finally yielded some worth as Camille raced through alleys, handling the car with ease in the dark of night. The Mustang had power and took bends without the need to slow up, unlike the bigger clumsier pickup truck giving chase. When she made it out of the metro and hit the rural roads, escape came into view.
Swallowing all her fear and summoning every ounce of courage, she veered the car toward Suicide Bend. Very few people had taken this section of dangerous road without losing control.
The night Mason had taken her on his hellish ride whipped through her mind. As good a driver as he was, even Mason failed to navigate this bend that night. She’d never forget his selfish and reckless act that spun his truck off the road and endangered their lives.
Suicide Bend was known among the locals for dodging cops when in trouble. Never did Camille think she’d need to use Mason’s own craziness against him as a means of escape. His insanity has become my insanity. She knew that if she succeeded, she’d lose her tail—and hopefully break away from Mason’s obsessive grip for good this time.
Major highways leading out of PA laid just beyond the bend and Camille was determined to escape. New York City was the only route that sprang to mind. She had a friend there who might give her shelter for a brief time until she figured out her next move. And it was practically a straight shot across PA.
Her options were limited—surrender and remain Mason’s prisoner of war or risk it all and get the hell out of his reach. She glanced in the rearview mirror. A pair of headlights began closing the gap. The perilous bend came into view.
“Go, baby, go,” she muttered, then shifted the car into high gear and let her fly full throttle.
She kept a firm yet relaxed grip and turned the wheel hard into the first turn, stomped the clutch and yanked the e-brake until she felt the rear wheels lock. Once they locked, she let go of the brake, released the clutch and floored the gas. She let the steering wheel slide through her hands until the car began to slide. Then she simply held it steady as the car drifted the bend many had failed to conquer. The speedometer needle bounced off one-twenty as she skated with ease.
As she came out of the bend, she took another peek in the rearview mirror and saw nothing but black.
I lost him! Her spirit soared as she held the car steady and guided it back under control. By the time she approached the Interstate ramp, she was doing one-fifty and pushing the car hard.
She assumed Mason hadn’t made the bend. That big truck always was too much vehicle for him. Some men just don’t know their limitations. She drew a deep breath and exhaled as the car settled into pace. One last glance in her car mirrors indicated no followers. She tried to relax but, in her gut, she knew he’d try to find her.
But New York was a big city with millions of people and surely offered many places to hide. Mason was a country guy who prided himself on camping in the wilderness, going mudding with quads and everything else that good ole’ boys did. She regretted ever hooking up with him.
Once on the Interstate, she rooted through her purse for her phone then tapped speed dial to her friend. With barely anyone else on the road except for an occasional big rig, she felt calm enough to make a quick call. After at least a dozen rings and no voicemail pickup, Camille pressed the end button and tossed her cell back into her bag.
Nina must be drunk or exhausted not to answer her phone. No matter, Camille continued east, hoping her friend would let her hang out until she found a place of her own.
