Free The Choice by Jean Brashear

evince even a grimace at the nickname.
    Hafner laughed. “He does, indeed.” He turned toward his security chief. “What do you say, Cullinane?”
    Voice stony, Cullinane responded, “Just drive, MacGregor.”
    Shadows dappled the driveway as she pulled away, Hafner giving directions. They headed farther out into the countryside. Jillian concentrated on her driving, trying desperately not to be unnerved by the presence of a man she loathed beside her...and the penetrating gaze that met her every time she glanced in the rearview mirror.
    When Hafner’s arm stretched out to rest lightly on the top of her seat back, she steeled herself not to shift away.
    Hafner rolled down the window, drawing in a deep breath of air filled with scents of decaying vegetation, exhaust fumes, and the slowly-settling heat of the day. “Ah, this countryside suits me. I like the faint air of corruption that infuses everything.” 
    She didn’t respond, focused on steering carefully. In the mirror, Cullinane’s hard visage greeted her, but she couldn’t read any expression there.
    “Turn here, my dear,” Hafner gestured. As their bodies swayed with the abrupt turn, his hand dropped to her thigh.
    Jillian flinched. Her glance shot up to the mirror to see if Cullinane had noticed, but Hafner’s voice jerked her attention back quickly.
    A squirrel darted across the road. Jillian barely missed it, Hafner’s hand tightening on her thigh as the vehicle swayed.
    She wanted to slap his hand away, to punch his lights out. She wanted to bathe away his touch, even though her jeans barred him from coming into contact with her skin.
    But she had a goal, a job to do. Hafner had to trust her so she could get close, again and again, until the opportunity presented itself. Tamping down her disgust, she gritted her teeth, glancing back in the mirror.
    Cullinane’s eyes burned her, his generous mouth set in a hard line, the flex of his jaw condemning.
    Jillian raised her chin and glared back.
    “Pay attention, MacGregor. There’s a car following us.”
    Glancing in the mirror again, she saw he was right. She’d seen that car before, on the highway. Focus, Jillian. Do this right.
    In front of them, a car drifted across the white line. She hadn’t trained for evasive driving. 
    A quick glance behind showed the car speeding up. The car in front hadn’t corrected its angle—it was headed straight for them.
    “Get down, Klaus,” Cullinane snapped. “Hit it, MacGregor! See if you can get past them.”
    Jillian’s fingers tightened around the wheel. She punched the accelerator, the vehicle reacting quickly. The car in front sped up, angling more. “I can’t make it,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m headed through those trees.” Jerking the wheel hard, she prayed the vehicle wouldn’t tip over as she ran it across the uneven ground.
    A shot pinged the roof. She wanted to reach for her weapon, but steering took all her attention.
    “Stay focused,” Cullinane ordered. “Turn our side toward them when you have to stop.”
    She saw him edging toward the other door, gun ready. Aiming the SUV at rougher ground where the cars behind them would have more trouble, she hoped she wouldn’t have to slow down to shift into four-wheel drive. They were gaining slightly.
    Suddenly, a drop loomed. Too much to traverse, and solid cypresses at the base, the edge of the swamp too near. She wheeled the car around, leaving it running, and grabbed her weapon. Cullinane slipped out of the back, gun drawn and ready.
    A shot hit the rear window, but it didn’t break.
    “Bulletproof, thanks to my protector,” Hafner said.
    Jillian climbed past him. “Stay down. I’ll see if I can help Cullinane.”
    When she got out, though, he was nowhere in sight. The black car that had been chasing them closed the gap. Jillian crouched behind the wheel well, sighting in to shoot, when she was grabbed from behind, a hard blow to her arm knocking her weapon to the