57. Fifty-Seven
Fifty-Seven
Presley
I did a bad thing. I said I wouldn’t, and I did. The car was barely enough to cut through the falling snow lingering on the road. Wiping my eyes with one hand, I gripped the steering wheel with the other. The car slipped on every turn, but I couldn’t slow down. My chest. My chest. My chest.
Pressing the pedal, I forced the car faster down the snow-packed road. I’d packed a bag with cash and my passport. I hadn’t left The Legion everything . . . because I knew I’d need it.
I couldn’t take it anymore. If I crashed the car, I’d run on foot. Nothing would stop me from going to my older brothers anymore. Not Hell Bitch, not Kilian and his cult, not even my family.
They would be so disappointed when they realized I was gone. It only made the pain worse. It was the most agonizing feeling I’d ever felt. Ever. And it wasn’t going away.
I tried to focus on anything else, but my face was hot with tears. Focusing on the road was out of the question. I needed to pull over before I hit someone or derailed into the ditch. That’s what Luke would say, but Luke wasn’t here. He was hurt somewhere; I could feel it. Or maybe Zach or maybe both.
Whatever it was, it was bad.
They needed me. Which meant I couldn’t stay at the cabin anymore. I had to go.
Did that make sense? Yes. It was logical.
They would do it for me. They’d have never stopped searching.
Aaron would flip. Mom and Kimberly would cry. I threw my phone out the window a few miles back. If they called me, I’d cave.
I had to be strong. Determined. Brave. Like my brothers.