Chapter 38 #2
When I don’t answer, all my thoughts on summoning a fucking breath and figuring out where the damn gun went, he says, “C’mon now, sweet thing like you? Yeah, I’m betting someone’s tapped that.”
“No,” I moan, but for my efforts he slaps the side of my head.
Pain shoots up my jaw, but it supersedes the ache in my back, and I whimper, “Please. Stop.”
“Don’t worry,” he chuckles. “Ice won’t care.”
With little choice because I’ve lost the gun, I drop my head and concede, if I don’t step up my game, I’m gonna die but am I ready to do this?
Yes, I fucking am because this is not my end. I refuse to let it be, which is why, I infuse as much lust as I can muster when all I feel is complete disgust and say, “You want me?”
“Huh?” he says, pausing.
“I just,” I mumble. “If you want me…maybe we can do something, ya know?”
“Hm,” he says, and I freeze when he swipes his disgusting ass tongue up my cheek.
Okay. That’s fucking gross.
Biting my lip, I welcome the coppery tang of blood as it slides down my throat and count to three before rasping, “I like to be on top.”
I don’t know what to do but I guess I’ll figure it out once I’m not eating dirt.
However, my skin crawls with every breath he takes, compounded when he says, “Oh baby.”
Thankfully he eases back, and I move to my knees, searching the ground while he shoves his jeans to his feet, only to bite back a gag when he thrusts his junk in my face.
It smells like old cheese, and I bring my hand to my nose only to divert at the last second, waving to the dirt.
“What? It’s fucking cold,” he grumbles, and I roll my eyes, thankful he can’t see my expression.
“I like it on top,” I whine and hold my breath. Will he take the bait?
“Fuck, fine,” he says, dropping to his back and bucking his hips. “Take off your clothes, baby.”
“In a minute, I want to suck you off.”
To my own ears I sound like a robot, but this douche can’t see or hear past his hard-on to the reality before him.
Thank god, my fingers brush the cool metal of the gun as I straddle his waist, and I desperately pray to a god that I’m not sure I believe in to make this end.
“Will you kiss me?” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes.
I wiggle my hips over his erection for good measure and he groans, “Whatever. Get it over with so you can suck my dick.”
As soon as our lips touch, I check out. I don’t taste or feel his tongue. It’s like I'm looking at him through a tunnel while he violates my mouth, and I raise the gun.
The first blow only dazes him but I’m ready and I slam it down against his skull again and again and again.
The dull crunch will live in my dreams rent free forever as I sit up and wipe my mouth before leaning over and retching beside his body.
The bitter bile replaces the smell of his rotten mouth though and I welcome the taste when I lose what’s left of the contents of my stomach.
It’s only when I hear shouts from the building that I look up and spy someone in the darkness.
Out of instinct, I raise the gun, and the man puts his palms in the air, saying, “Whoa. Easy.”
Draven. It’s Draven.
“What are you doing here?” I croak in a daze as a roar builds in my ears and cascades through my body.
She waves her hand, speaking but I don’t understand the words coming out of her mouth.
When she takes a single step toward me, I freeze before the shouts inside the building erupt into a frenzy, followed by gunfire.
“Shit,” she says, scooping me. “Run!”
I follow her in a daze, stumbling over the brush and slamming into trees while Draven maneuvers just fine before me.
Bitch.
Once we’re past the faint ring of light from the fire, it gets harder to see but I don’t slow.
“Over there,” someone shouts, and I gasp before pushing faster.
The grass brushes past my waist and I stumble twice before hitting a tree and dropping to the ground.
When Draven appears beside me, I whimper, grasping my knee as fire shoots up my leg.
We both turn as rustling breaks out nearby and Draven drops to her knees, covering my mouth before hissing, “Sh!”
Luckily, I fell over a downed log and when she pushes me down, I fall against it, holding back a grunt when she drops on top of me.
The rough bark bites into my skin and I shiver as ice collects along my spine.
Beyond the shouts in the distance all I hear is the pounding of my heart until a twig snaps by my head.
Clenching my eyes closed, I bite my lip so hard that the copper tang of blood fills my mouth once again.
It’s quiet, almost too quiet, until someone above me grunts, “Wait here.”
The man who spoke presumably moves through the trees while his companion gets cozy nearby.
Time passes slowly while I concentrate on taking quiet breaths so as not to alert the man waiting in the proverbial wings.
Draven’s heart pounds desperately against mine and I focus on the beat, the sound almost soothing until a terrifying scream rents the air.
All the hair on my nape stands on end at the torturous cry and tears fill my eyes when Draven sags against me.
The horrible, awful sound continues for what feels like forever before it finally cuts off so abruptly that I’m momentarily disoriented.
Into the silence, the faint breaths of the man standing somewhere nearby penetrate my brain and I tense when his friend returns, his footfalls easy to hear in the silence.
“You hear that?”
“Nope and neither did you. Let’s go,” the other man grumbles.
“I didn’t sign up for this shit,” the first one says. “Ice ain’t gonna be pleased.”
“Yeah well, I don’t see that fucker out here.”
As soon as they turn, Draven pushes up, her limbs trembling over mine.
We wait an excruciating few minutes before she crawls away and leans back to help me to my feet.
My throbbing knee protests every step but it’s easy to ignore when I know what the alternative is.
After a few steps though, I look back and freeze when I meet the dark eyed stare of one of the men, we thought was a safe distance away.
Slowly the fight leaves my body, and I accept my fate until the clouds move, allowing the moon to peek through and I see Mouse, the prospect I met on that long ago night.
His brows furrow as he takes me in before he places his finger over his lips, slowly backs away and disappears into the trees.
I watch him go, my heart in my throat until Draven pauses in my peripheral and I move, following her when she picks her way through the icy mud and foliage.
Once we pass through the ring of trees, I exhale to find that we’re near the vehicles and pull out the keys Kidd gave me.
“Here,” I whisper, and Draven plucks them from my hand.
I’m reaching for the door on the passenger side of the truck when I pause and turn.
I don’t see anyone, but I do see the flames from the fire bursting over the roof of the building and it’s blazing.
Turning I meet Draven’s wide eyes through the windshield and her ashen features twist into a grimace before she starts the vehicle and puts it in gear.
By some miracle we make it to the highway without interference.
When she pulls onto the road like one of those muscle cars on the racetrack, I careen against the window, smacking my forehead into the glass.
Of course, this is when my injuries flare to life and biting back a moan, I lean my head back against the seat.
The cab is quiet but for the sound of the tires churning on the black top, leaving me to my thoughts, such as they are.
What happened to Kidd? Please, if there is a god, let his end have been instant because death by fire is too painful to consider.
“Fuck,” Draven snarls, snapping me back to the present and I follow her gaze over my shoulder.
Of course, because fuck my life, half a dozen motorcycles are closing in on us and with a groan, I ask, “What do we do?”
Swinging back to the road, her hands tighten on the wheel, and she leans forward, staring out the windshield as she says, “Outrun them.”
It’s better than anything I’ve got but we’re already going way too fast down a slick road which with the dropping temperatures could be icy.
When she presses her foot on the accelerator, we shoot forward and fishtail before she manages to correct the vehicle.
Unfortunately, the ice hasn’t deterred them either because when I look over my shoulder, they’re still behind us.
Years of Peter’s lectures about driving in the snow dance through my brain before I throw that shit out the window and say, “Floor it.”
We lurch forward again but they just keep gaining speed and despair washes through me as I slam my fist against the console.
Why won’t these assholes give up?
“Shoot ‘em,” Draven shouts and I turn to her blankly.
Huh?
When she swerves, I careen to the left and she barks, “Goddamnit Delaney!”
“Fuck off,” I mumble before curling around the seat and rolling down the window.
Despite Peter being a cop, I’ve always been afraid of guns, although I know the basics of gun safety.
I’m also in a moving vehicle, so I don’t bother to aim at anything in particular when I squeeze my eyes closed and pull the trigger.
The first shot hits the back of the truck and Draven says, “Are you kidding me?”
“You wanna do it?” I bark, and she turns to me with a snarl while I shake out my arm.
Before she can respond, the truck jolts and I cry out, bracing myself against the dash. It’s probably stupid but I didn’t expect them to return fire, and I duck behind my seat when the back window shatters.
What the actual hell?
Draven glances at me with a grimace and sucking in a breath, I chuckle, albeit hysterically as I say, “Look, now we have air conditioning.”
Immune to my humor, such as it is, her brows furrow and I rise to my knees, firing out the back.
I can’t say that I hit anything, but the shots inspire the assholes to swerve which slows their momentum.
When one of the men raises a gun, I duck down, covering my ears just in time because stuffing explodes from the headrest above me.
My eardrums ache from the loud report as I shoot back and when the gun clicks signaling it’s empty, I say, “What now?”
“Hold on,” she grunts, and I scramble for the seatbelt, shouting when I glance in the rearview mirror, “Move!”
It’s nonsensical but Draven seems to understand, and we swerve across the road before taking a sharp right turn.
We end up on another back road with the motorcycles spinning out in the dirt but remaining steady behind us.
This one is not maintained, and we fishtail on the icy sludge when she presses her foot on the gas.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere they can’t,” she says, and I eye her sideways.
I hope she knows what she’s doing. Otherwise, we’re driving ourselves into a trap.
The assholes behind us take a few potshots but otherwise wait us out. This doesn’t inspire confidence while we buck and bounce over the rough terrain.
When I turn, I see the bikers aren’t having an easy time of it though. The front runner slips into a dip, flies into the air and bounces down into a hole that his tire doesn’t survive.
One down five to go.
Two start to slow and I hold my breath when Draven rounds a boulder, shifts the truck into another gear and races toward a river that appears out of the darkness.
“Uh…” It’s all I can say as we hit it going way too fast.
Immediately the tires struggle under the loose rock and I grab my chest when the vehicle stalls.
“Fuck!” Draven screams, slamming her hand against the wheel but she doesn’t give up and eventually, the truck lurches forward, albeit slower than before.
To my relief, we reach the other side, no worse for wear and I silently thank the universe that the river turned out to be more of a stream.
If it had been any deeper, I don’t think we would have made it across.
After trading huge ass smiles, I look out the back window and meet the icy stare of Ice.
Unfortunately, his pale blue eyes remind me of Kidd, who died so that we can live, and I bite back a whimper while he recedes into the distance.