Chapter 5
Claire
The brake line wrench felt heavy in my bag as I headed back toward the house. But something made me stop at the garage door.
'Wait,' Macy's voice was urgent in my head. 'There might be more evidence in there.'
I glanced back at the house. Austin was probably settling in for his "important call." This could be my only chance to search properly.
I slipped back into the garage and headed for the old red toolbox again. If Austin had one piece of evidence, there might be more.
The musty smell of motor oil and dust filled my nostrils as I dug deeper into the toolbox. My fingers found another oily rag, and underneath it—
Bingo.
A second wrench, this one with what looked like fresh brake fluid still coating the threads.
'Oh my God,' Macy whispered. 'He's been planning this for a while.'
I wrapped the wrench carefully and shoved it into my bag next to the first one. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure the whole neighborhood could hear it.
That's when I heard the footsteps.
Not just Austin's familiar stride. Multiple sets of heavy boots on concrete.
"I know you're in there," Austin's voice carried across the garage. "Playing detective, are we?"
I spun around to find him blocking the garage door. Two massive guys flanked him—the kind of muscle you don't hire for legitimate business deals.
Shit.
"Baby, what are you talking about?" I tried to keep my voice steady. "I was just—"
"Cut the act." Austin stepped into the garage, and his whole demeanor had changed. The charming mask was completely gone now. "Hand over the tools."
'Run,' Macy's voice was panicked. 'Claire, you need to run!'
But there was nowhere to go. The garage only had one exit, and these three assholes were blocking it.
"I don't know what you mean." I clutched my bag tighter.
One of the thugs cracked his knuckles. "Want me to search her, boss?"
"Give me the fucking wrenches, or I call the hospital right now and tell them to stop your mother's medication." Austin pulled out his phone. "Let her die slowly and in pain."
Macy's consciousness went weak with terror. 'Claire... maybe we should... I can't let my mom suffer because of this.'
"You sick bastard," I snarled. "Using a helpless woman to—"
"I'm not playing games." Austin's finger hovered over his phone. "The tools. Now."
That's when Lucas appeared in the doorway.
"Back the fuck off!" He barreled into the garage, going straight for the bigger thug.
The guy was twice Lucas's size, but Lucas fought dirty. He grabbed a crowbar from the workbench and swung it at the man's knee.
"Macy! Get out of here!"
The second thug lunged at me, but I ducked and grabbed the nearest thing I could find—a heavy flashlight from the toolbox.
Without thinking, I smashed it into the garage's overhead light.
Glass exploded everywhere, plunging us into near darkness.
"Shit!" One of the thugs cursed as he stumbled over something.
'Austin's moving toward the wall!' Macy's voice cut through the chaos. 'He's trying to get to his phone!'
In the dim light from the doorway, I could barely make out Austin's silhouette. But Macy was right—he was reaching for something.
I launched myself at him, tackling him to the concrete floor.
"You fucking bitch!" He tried to shove me off, but I held on tight.
That's when I felt it—his phone, still in his hand.
I grabbed for it, but Austin's grip was stronger. We rolled across the garage floor, both fighting for control of the device.
"Let go!" I dug my nails into his wrist until he yelped and loosened his grip.
The phone skittered across the concrete. I crawled after it frantically.
Behind me, I could hear Lucas still fighting with the two thugs. Someone crashed into the workbench, sending tools clattering everywhere.
My fingers closed around Austin's phone. The screen was cracked but still working.
No password. Fucking amateur.
I scrolled through his messages quickly, looking for anything about the brake lines.
There. A text thread with someone named "Mike's Auto."
[Need the brake line job done tonight. Make it look accidental.]
[You sure about this? That's pretty heavy.]
[She's got to go. Make sure the fluid leaks slow—I want her to make it a few miles before the brakes fail.]
[Jesus, man. This is gonna cost extra.]
[Whatever it takes.]
My hands were shaking as I screenshotted the conversation and sent it to Lucas's number.
"Got it!" I shouted over the chaos.
Austin was back on his feet, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. "Give me that phone!"
I started deleting the original messages, but he lunged at me again.
This time, I was ready.
I swung the brake line wrench from my bag as hard as I could.
It connected with his forearm with a sickening crack.
"Fuck!" Austin stumbled backward, clutching his arm. "You crazy bitch! You broke my fucking arm!"
"Should've thought of that before you tried to murder me!" I held up the phone. "Your little chat with Mike's Auto? Already sent to Lucas. And the police."
Austin's face went white. "You have no idea what you've done."
"Yeah, I do. I just ended your bullshit."
That's when the sirens started wailing in the distance.
'Police,' Macy whispered with relief.
Lucas appeared beside me, his lip split and shirt torn, but grinning. "Set up an automatic alert. If I didn't text within ten minutes, my phone would send everything to the cops."
The sirens got louder.
Austin was still holding his arm, but his eyes had that desperate look of a cornered animal. "This isn't over. You think this is the end? I've got insurance."
"What the hell does that mean?" Lucas demanded.
Austin smiled through his pain. "Check Clair, asshole. I made sure I'd have leverage."
My blood turned to ice. "What did you do?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Even with police cars pulling into the driveway, he was still smug. "you might want to hurry."
Uniformed officers swarmed into the garage, shouting orders. The two thugs went down without much of a fight, but Austin kept talking as they cuffed him.
"You'll come crawling back to me!" he yelled over his shoulder. "When you see what I've arranged!"
As they dragged him toward the squad car, something crinkled in my pocket.
I pulled out a folded piece of paper I didn't remember putting there.
Written in Austin's handwriting was an address I didn't recognize.
Lucas read it over my shoulder, his face going pale. "That's across town. Near the medical district."
"He's got my real body," I whispered. "He's got Claire."
'We have to go,' Macy urged. 'Now!'
The police were asking questions, but I barely heard them. All I could think about was my real body—defenseless, unconscious, and in Austin's hands.
"We need to go," I told Lucas urgently. "Right fucking now."
He nodded, understanding immediately. "Let's bring that bastard down once and for all."