rehearsed apologies. He didn't notice the cherry-red Aston Martin

on Townsend wouldn't just take the loss. He would lash out. And the easies

ered a wide interse

a red light, barreling toward the driver's

or. His hands jerked the wheel, a useless,

from the truck, bu

erly didn't try to get in front of the Mercedes.

rent calculation

es, but at the truck's front axle. She was going to use her

he front quarter panel of the t

g explosion of tearing m

and it was perfectly angled. The impact was designed to break the steering linkag

ly along its rear bumper, sending the Mercedes into a spin before plowing in

olently shaken but m

artin was a mangled wreck, smoke pouring from its crushed

lization washed over him. He

and scrambled out of his car. He ran toward the

warped door,

er forehead was bleeding freely, the crimson strea

with a pain he didn't know he was ca

y humiliated less than twenty-four hours ago, had

rfect view of the intersection, Hollis Walker low

oice tight. "Is she insane?

illed not with shock, but w

insanity. That was calculation. Th

secure the scene. I don't want the po

e pavement and began w

e met Miss Ca