Chapter 146
Chapter 146:
Brinley’s eyes widened in horror as the car’s nose shot straight toward the guardrail—only five meters left before the inevitable crash.
In a desperate instant, she released the handbrake and kicked hard at the passenger-side door latch.
The sleeve of her fireproof racing suit snagged on the steering wheel and tore. Her arm scraped along the edge of the metal trim, leaving a hot, stinging pain.
She couldn’t think about it now.
In the fleeting seconds before the car spun completely out of control, her hand shot beneath the dashboard, searching frantically until her fingers found a small hidden switch under the carpet.
It was a secret failsafe Jensen had installed for emergencies like this.
𝗪𝗲 𝘶𝗽𝘥𝘢𝗍𝘦 𝘦vеr𝘆 𝘸𝘦𝗲k on
With a heavy bang, the passenger door blew open, and a violent rush of air slammed into the car.
Brinley clung to the wheel with her left hand while her right latched onto the door frame. Using the vehicle’s momentum, she hurled her body toward the passenger seat.
The moment she left the driver’s seat, the front of the car slammed brutally into the guardrail.
The impact blurred her vision. Her shoulder crashed against the frame, and the force nearly tore the breath from her lungs.
Through sheer grit, she grabbed the wheel again, forced herself back into the driver’s seat, and, at the same time, slammed down the engine kill switch.
The unbearable screech of metal grinding against metal cut off at once.
The white car lurched to a crooked stop at the edge of the safety zone, its front crushed and twisted, debris scattered across the ground.
Brinley collapsed against the wheel, gasping raggedly, her body trembling uncontrollably from shock.
“Brinley!” a voice bellowed in panic from behind.
She snapped her head around and saw Austin sprinting toward her from his black Maybach.
His suit jacket hung open, his tie was crooked, and his usual composed demeanor was gone. His expression was raw and frantic—something she had never seen on him before.
He reached the driver’s side and yanked open the warped door, his eyes darkening at the sight of her sweat-soaked figure and the blood streaking down her arm. “Where are you hurt? How bad is it p>
Brinley tried to answer, but before she could, Austin scooped her into his arms.
His hold was firm and urgent in a way that rattled her.
She struggled weakly against him.
“Don’t move,” Austin ordered, tightening his grip. “I’m getting you to a hospital p>
“I’m fine… just scratches, bruises…” Brinley protested weakly.
Ignoring her, he carried her toward the Maybach.
As they passed the wrecked white car, he shot a cold glance at the mangled front and scattered debris. A deep scowl carved into his brow.