Chapter 36
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
Andi couldn’t breathe.
Her lungs locked, refusing to draw air as the bus tipped again. The weight shifted toward the cliff like a slow, inevitable surrender. The ocean filled the windows now—too wide, too close. Nothing but open space waited below.
She pressed her palm to the seat in front of her, fingers numb, her heart battering against her ribs so hard she was sure it would crack something.
This can’t be how it ends.
No warning. No answers.
Just impact and water and silence.
Andi’s mind narrowed to one terrible certainty: There would be no time to save anyone. Not Duke. Not Anastasia. Not herself.
The bus shuddered violently.
Metal screamed as Jack wrenched the wheel, forcing the bus toward the inside of the curve. The back slammed into the guardrail with a bone-rattling crunch. The sound tore through her like pain.
And then—
Resistance.
Jack managed to slam the bus into a lower gear. The engine brake engaged, the motor shrieked, and the bus heaved as it began to lose speed.
Gravel sprayed against the windows as the tires hit an uphill turnout—one Andi hadn’t even seen, hidden behind the curve.
Momentum bled away in jerks and lurches.
Her head snapped forward, then back.
Finally, the bus slowed to a stop.
The silence afterward felt unreal.
Andi sucked in a breath so sharp it hurt, then another. Her hands shook. Her entire body shook. She pressed her forehead to the seatback, tears blurring the world as the truth sank in.
They were still here.
Alive.
The bus sat crooked on the shoulder, one side scraped raw, smoke curling faintly from the undercarriage. The ocean roared below, indifferent and endless.
Duke stood near the front of the vehicle, every muscle still coiled tight. Adrenaline buzzed through him as Jack paced beside the open door, running a hand through his hair.
“I checked it,” Jack said, voice loud and disbelieving. “I always check it. Brakes, lines, pressure—everything was fine this morning. Fine.”
Duke watched him closely. Jack wasn’t posturing. He wasn’t covering anything up.
He was shaken.
“The engine brake saved us,” Jack continued, shaking his head. “If that turnout hadn’t been there—if we’d hit that curve five seconds later—” He broke off, swallowing hard. “I don’t understand why the brakes went out.”
Duke crouched near the damaged side of the bus, eyes tracing the torn metal and scorched rubber. His jaw tightened as pieces locked into place.
This wasn’t from neglect.
This wasn’t coincidence.
Someone had tampered with the brakes.
Not enough to guarantee failure. Just enough to create a moment where physics decided who lived and who didn’t.
Duke straightened slowly, gaze lifting to the bus full of shaken faces—Andi’s among them, pale but alive.
Someone had wanted them dead.
And they’d come far closer than Duke wanted to admit.