Chapter Quote:
"Roman: Just promise me, Brian. No more funerals.
Brian: Just one. His."
~Fast and Furious Seven
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Chapter 32

Ember

Jackson and I drove side by side, dodging the oncoming cars who honked in protest at us. Thank god it was late at night because it meant the interstate wasn't near as busy. Plus Hobbs had the foresight to shut down a few miles worth of exits to buy us and the civilians some safety.

We passed the first closed exit, and suddenly, all the cars were gone. I breathed in relief as Jackson and I came to a stop. I watched on our GPS as Jace's tracker showed where he was. Whoever he was with was heading towards the farthest exit from us, the first 'closed' one. That would give us plenty of time to prepare.

"Attaching cable," Jackson announced. I heard something latch onto my car. It was a metal wire that could stop a moving vehicle in its tracks without snapping, and that's exactly what we were planning on. We just had to make sure Lynch was coming from the opposite direction for it to work. We also had to ensure he was close to the center, so one of us didn't get pulled more than the other. I doubted that would be an issue, but it was still a possibility.

"Okay, we should start going..." I watched the screen as Jace's tracker pulled onto the freeway. "Now!"

Jackson and I floored it, gathering up speed in the blink of an eye. We stuck next to each other at first. I risked a glance in his direction, but could barely see anything through our tinted windows.

"Approaching the target," he said. In the distance, I could see Jace's ride, and behind him, Lynch. They had barely enough room between them for us to pull off what we needed to. It was a good thing our cars were agile.

The allied car was nearly upon us, and I tried to get a look at the driver as he shot past us. But he blasted past us, and the only thing I could do was swerve outward after putting as much distance between Jackson and me as possible.

Lynch should've been in the middle. That way the rope would've put equal force on mine and Jackson's cars.

But instead, he plowed into the rope right next to Jackson's car, causing it to come to a violent stop, and mine to come whipping around. Without thinking, I rushed out of my vehicle to Jackson's side to check on him. Throwing open his door, I found him slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious with blood trickling down his face.

"Jackson?" I placed two fingers against his neck, praying to feel a pulse. "Jackson!"

"Emmy?" he murmured, eyes fluttering open.

"Oh, thank God," I said, relief flooding through me. I radioed my team, letting them know the plan had failed, and that Jackson needed immediate help. As Dom was responding, someone ripped me away from Jackson, throwing me to the ground.

"So, the bitch lives," Lynch said, stopping in front of Jackson's door.

"So does the asshole," I spat, struggling to get up. I'd taken the brunt of the impact on my shoulder, and pain coursed through it. I grit my teeth to cope with the pain. I wouldn't give Lynch the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt me.

Lynch turned his head to look at Jackson. "Hey, son. You're looking pretty rough. Let me help you out."

Before I could register what happened, Lynch shot Jackson, and I screamed for him, unable to fully comprehend what I just saw. Jackson couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. We'd come too far and had too much to say to each other for him to be dead.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. He's not dead. Not yet. He will be soon, though, if the ambulance doesn't hurry up. And so will you." Lynch turned the gun on me.

"My dad. I know about him," I said, trying to buy myself some time by giving him jaw-dropping news. It seemed to work as his gun lowered ever so slightly. "I know you kept him imprisoned all this time. I know you were the one who faked his death. What I want to know is why. I want to know what my family did to you that made you take my dad and my brother away from me."

"A long time ago, your father and uncle killed my father and brother. My father's name was Hernan Reyes. My brother was Martim Reyes. They took them away from me just when I was old enough to understand what death was. I swore vengeance. So when I was old enough, I took your father away from you, but rather than kill him, I gave him a fate worse than death. I made him watch his son grow up in a life he didn't want him in. I made him think over day and night about the family he left behind. I made the rest of you mourn the death of your father, and agonize over not knowing where Jack was. I wanted you all to feel the pain I have felt my entire life."

"Your father murdered innocent people. Your father forced people to do his bidding. My uncle and dad weren't perfect, but they were a hell of a lot better than your father," I spat.

"I'm going to-" He was cut short by sirens approaching. With one disgusted look my way, he fired his gun at me, but I'd seen it coming and dodged behind Jackson's car before he'd even turned my way. Lynch sprinted to his ride. I snuck around to Jackson's side. A gaping hole in his leg oozed an unhealthy amount of blood. I took off my jacket and plugged the wound with it.

"Go... get him," Jackson wheezed.

"But you're dying," I said worriedly, already feeling the blood seeping through the fabric.

"Emmy. I'll live. Go... go get that... son of a bitch." Our eyes met, and I could see the fire in them, the determination. Clenching my jaw, I kissed him on the head, then bolted to my car, detaching the cable, and flooring it after Lynch. I just needed to get within shooting range. I wasn't going to let him get away again. Dead or alive, his reign of terror ended today.

He'd gotten a good head start on me, but my car was faster on a flat stretch than his. Slowly, I caught up to him, and my impatience got the better of me. I probably was too far away, but I was going to take the shot anyway. If I missed, I'd run him off the road. I'd figure out something.

"Ember, where are you?" Jace asked. I told him my general location and direction, but I was moving so fast, my position wasn't current for long.

I leveled my gun out my window, the wind nearly whipping it out of my hand. My hand shook in an effort to aim at Lynch's car. If I made any of the shots I was about to take, then there had to be a god in this world. That or luck was seriously on my side.

I fired my first shot and predictably missed the tire, hitting the pavement instead. Swearing at myself, I waited until my car crept closer to Lynch, then took another shot. This time, I nailed his trunk, but still, I needed to hit the tire, and I only had three bullets left. With my forte being driving, I wasn't holding out on succeeding in this endeavor.

I fired my third shot and hit his rear windshield, shattering the glass. Lynch turned around at me, I guess surprised by my aim. Hell, he wasn't the only one. To my pleasant surprise, he'd unintentionally slowed down, just enough to where I could close the distance between us. Now, I had a much better chance of hitting his tires, and this time, I didn't miss. I blew out his left rear tire. He lost control of the car momentarily but regained control. However, I rammed his back end as hard as I could, sending him into an uncontrollable spin. Lynch crashed into the median with a crunch. He came to a stop just past the overpass.

Stepping out of my car with a gun in hand and pointed in his direction, I waited for him to exit out of the vehicle. Meanwhile, I informed Dom and Hobbs I had Lynch at gunpoint. I hadn't heard either man so excited in a very long time.

"It's over, Lynch," I called out when I saw movement. "It's time to end this."

"You're right," he said. "It is."

I saw a flash of metal and dove behind my car before bullets ripped into the place I'd just stood. I cowered as he pelted my poor vehicle with his machine gun. With only one bullet left, I'd have to make the shot count when the opportunity presented itself. He'd have to reload at some point.

When the firing stopped, I peered underneath my car to see where he was. His boots were next to his vehicle. Taking a deep breath, I popped up from behind mine and fired. I hit him in the leg, but it wasn't enough to slow him down.

Now I was out of ammo and out of ideas.

I had extra ammunition, but it was all inside my car that was currently being torn to shreds by Lynch's bullets.

Suddenly, Lynch howled in pain. Cautiously, I peered over my hood. He lay on the ground, writhing in agony, arm clutched in his hand. Wondering who shot him, I scanned the area, my eyes finally resting on the overpass where two figures had guns pointed at him.

"You okay, Ember?" Jace's voice came over the mic, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm okay. You have impeccable timing. That is you up there, right?" I replied, standing up.

"Yeah. And I have someone with me I think you'll want to see."