Chapter 23. #2
“Evie comes first,” I assure him steadily, and there are a few moments of silence as the surroundings pass us by. In four months I’ve come a long way from Portland. I’ve visited a lot of places, been on a cruise ship, fought for my place in the ring—
Now I’m following a serial killer. And maybe even… falling for Reuben. I’m sure these memories will be my sweetest dreams… and the cruellest ghosts that linger in the dark.
Just like the Adler Squad.
“If you’re both just fooling around,” Xavier’s voice is cold, breaking through my thoughts mercilessly, “make sure to do it outside of my operation.”
When I turn my gaze to his, he’s watching me emotionlessly, but somehow, I know it’s a facade.
I know because when I look at him, all I see is a mirror of myself.
“It’ll be over soon, Xavier,” I tell him gently and I can only hope it doesn’t antagonize him further—that it gives him the reassurance he needs to take the edge off.
“We’re going to get him,” I promise.
For a fraction of a second, Xavier’s mask falters, and I notice the self-loathing in his eyes, the darkness hidden away there, that’s etched right onto his heart. It’s gone so quickly, I could convince myself I’d imagined it.
He turns away from me to look out of the window. “What do you like about him?”
I blink. About Reuben? I thought my answer would be hard to find, yet it’s there on the tip of my tongue, surprising even me.
“He sees me,” I confess softly, turning my gaze back to the window, “and even though he sees it all, he still… thinks I’m worth saving.” I didn’t even notice how tightly I’m pressing my hands together.
“I think I’d give him anything… just for that.”
Just like I did for Christian.
I have to make a note to tell Lucia.
Turns out I’m quite… ‘easy.’
“Xavier, we have a problem,” Tobias’ voice reaches the back seat through the speakers of the car, and Xavier and I become alert.
“What’s the matter?” Xavier asks.
“Traffic’s separated us,” Tobias’ displeasure is unmistakable.
“There shouldn’t be traffic at this time of day,” Xavier’s brows tighten.
“No. Something happened on the highway, some kind of accident.”
“It looks bad,” Gabriel pitches in grimly. “It’ll take a while for them to clear it up.”
“We didn’t see or hear anything,” Xavier’s loss of control injects a sharp edge into his voice. “How far behind were you?”
There’s a guilty silence on the other end before Tobias speaks reluctantly, “Some marathon runners were passing by. Police stopped traffic to let them through.”
“It put some distance between us,” Gabriel grumbles softly.
“Then the accident happened,” Tobias finishes for him, but Xavier has a strange look on his face. I can see the gears in his mind turning quickly, as if coming to a realization, but a sound pulls my gaze away—the revving of an engine that’s become suddenly too loud.
Suddenly too close.
One second feels like an eternity when I look up, right into oversized headlights.
Into the face of a truck charging towards us at full speed.
I prioritize Xavier, throwing myself over him to protect him. I put all my focus into strengthening my body, at least ten times the hardness to take the brunt of the damage, pinning his body down with mine and shielding his head.
But the collision is worse.
Time snaps back to its usual pace and my bones shatter on impact.
It doesn’t crush me completely, so Xavier is safe.
Still, his scream is cut short as the vehicle rolls ruthlessly.
The pain throughout my body is sharp and excruciating as smashed glass tears through my skin and nerves.
My muscles aren’t able to hold Xavier down anymore, so I’m a flailing mess of crushed bones and torn ligaments as the car rolls off the highway.
Even knowing I won’t die—that I’ve protected my cores properly—it’s nothing short of agony as I lose consciousness, maybe for a moment.
When I snap awake, the vehicle has rolled to a stop.
I’m conscious because my skull, though cracked, has protected my brain successfully. My lungs are intact. My heart is still beating.
But Christian’s body is a mess of flesh. The pain and loss of blood will soon drag me into unconsciousness again, so there’s no time. I have to shift immediately.
It’s a pain to put my body back together again.
I have to keep some things. Maybe three broken ribs (again, fuck), a few lacerations on my arms and legs, an injury to the back of my skull (it’s not too severe so it should be fine), maybe a few cuts on my face—
And bruises.
I should have lots of bruises.
But stars, even with those, someone is bound to ask questions.
I’ll have to think about it later, because I can sense others approaching the vehicle.
Something tells me they’re not friendly.
I twist my injured body to reach the duffel that’s fallen between the seats.
Xavier’s unconscious but he’s still strapped in—some bits of glass have torn into the skin of his arms and the impact might’ve knocked him out… But I think he’s fine otherwise, thank the stars.
The driver’s dead.
For a split second, I’m glad Wesley was in Tobias’ car.
Fuck, now I’m pissed.
I load a magazine into one of the pistols with a hiss of pain from the open wounds, but I can’t let it distract me—I dull my sense of pain for now, to keep me focused.
The car finished its rolling right-side up, to my advantage, but the windows are shattered. Not so completely to leave me visible to the approaching strangers, but just enough that I might be spotted too soon.
I can hear seven of them—seven breaths approaching the car—and it’s enough for me to pinpoint their positions around the vehicle. They’ve let their guard down, so I’ll have a few seconds more if I can take them by surprise, but I'll need to be careful.
A shot to the head is not what I need right now.
I don't have time to unbuckle Xavier from his seat or move him away from the broken window. I’m crawling through the window on my side instead, wincing as the glass along the edges bites into my skin.
I brace myself behind the broken vehicle. I can't afford to catch my breath or wait until they've gotten too close. So I take a single, controlled, fistful of air into my lungs... then I step into the open, taking aim over the smashed hood of the car.
Five shots ring through the air, each one, a headshot finding its target. But I’m not fast enough, the remaining two draw their weapons and I’ve barely retreated behind the hood when their bullets cut into the space where I once was.
On second thought… Xavier’s unconscious, the driver is dead, no one else is around... and these two will be dead soon.
I don't see a reason to play it safe for two dead men.
I dash out from behind the car, running straight for the closest man. But it turns out, limbs don’t work as well as you think after getting hit by a truck… even after you heal up a bit.
I'm unable to avoid the bullets that sink into my shoulder and thigh.
Still, I reach him—I grab the barrel of his gun and point it away, then I step around him so he’s safely between me and his partner.
One shot and the one furthest from us goes down—my bullet clips him between the eyes. But the idiot triggers two shots before he falls.
Both bullets burrow into his partner’s chest—the one I put between us. He falls to the floor with a sharp cry and I wrestle his gun out of his fingers before throwing it to one side.
I have to dig my fingers deep into my own wounds to pull the bullets out. Even after dulling the pain, sifting through bone and muscle… is uncomfortable to say the least. Still, I’m able to pull the bullets out and drop them to the floor.
“Fuck, you guys really pulled out all the stops,” I mutter as I crouch to my attacker’s level.
He's not dead, but he will be soon.
I pull his head up by his hair to rest the barrel of the gun beneath his chin.
“Who sent you?”
The man only glares at me through hateful eyes.
“You're protecting Philip, aren't you?” I make a deadly guess. “The Harvester?”
“You really thought we wouldn't notice you loitering around the girl for days?” he sneers and it tells me all I need to know.
We were found out.
Evie’s in trouble.
Since when?
For how long has Philip been dragging us around by the tail?
I pull the trigger and his blood splatters against the dying grass.
The car rolled off the highway but even that is empty; I’m sure the accident that’s keeping Tobias and Xavier separated from us was orchestrated to keep the roads clear.
By the time the flow of traffic resumed, we would’ve been dead and their cleaners would’ve already swept through.
A groan from the car snaps my attention away and Xavier opens the door to fall out of the car.
Stiffness is beginning to set in from mistreating my body so much, but I ignore it for now as I walk past Xavier, grab the duffel in the backseat of the car and search around for anything else we might need.
“I don’t mean to rush you,” I sling the bag over my shoulder with a wince, “but we’ve got to go.”
Xavier is coughing and wheezing on the floor as I stand above him and he looks as shaken as anyone hit by a truck should probably be.
“How—the fuck are you—alive?” He coughs in bursts, trembling slightly as he tries to gather air into his lungs.
Is it too late to say drugs?
“Let’s start with ‘thank you’ for now,” I play at nonchalance, pulling him up by the scruff of his shirt to place our phones in his hands. “Philip’s getting away with Evie.”
The surge of fury in Xavier’s eyes is contagious to say the least.
“Five years, right?” I nod my head, holding his gaze, “We won’t let him get away. We’re killing this bastard today.”
He nods grimly and I turn away, “Now try to get a hold of the team. Can you drive a truck?”
“I’ll learn quickly,” he huffs.
That's the spirit.
The comms are down.
So are the phone lines. There’s no way to contact Tobias… or Reuben.
Were they all hit the same way?
Anxiety is pooling in the base of my stomach.
If anyone else had gotten run over like that… they would’ve died.