Chapter 2
Two
Blair
“Shit.”
Rhett’s soft curse, spoken under his breath, pulls my attention away from the passenger side mirror. Tensing, I sit up a little straighter in my seat. My eyes sweep over the dark road ahead of us, but I don’t see anything amiss.
“What is it?”
“Gas tank’s nearly empty.” Rhett’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “We’re going to have to abandon the vehicle.”
I don’t say it out loud, but I have a sinking suspicion that the vehicle probably has a tracker on it anyway. We might’ve gotten away from the SUV that had barreled toward us as we left Caddawalk behind, but I know they’ve got to be close.
“There’s an exit coming up. We can stop at one of the restaurants and trade cars with someone.”
Rhett shoots me a puzzled look. “Trade cars?”
“That was my nice way of suggesting I—we—should steal a car.”
The way “we” rolls off my tongue feels stilted. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that Rhett chose to come with me rather than return to the life he’s been clinging to for the past few years.
I’m not altogether sure why he chose to come.
I’m not sure if he thinks he owes me for saving his life when he nearly dove off the edge of the quarry a few days ago or if this is something else, but it’s not sitting right with me.
He could die if he sticks around. This isn’t some game.
I’m running from professional killers. These people aren’t the pathetic pieces of human scum he and Santi chase through the woods.
If he dies because he’s with me, I won’t be able to live with myself.
Rhett doesn’t deserve such a grisly end.
The guilt that’s increasing with every mile we put between us and Caddawalk is going to eat me alive. Rhett should be back in his bed by now, holding Santi and breathing a sigh of relief that the looming threat I brought to Gnarly Pines has passed.
What makes the guilt worse is that there’s a part of me that’s relieved that I’m not facing this alone.
“I can hot wire a car,” Rhett offers, his voice rough with stress. “I’m pretty quick with it.”
I look over at him, genuinely surprised. He notices and lets out a strained chuckle.
“I’m a fugitive on the run, remember? I needed to figure out transportation fast.”
Right… Not only am I wanted by some unknown assailant, but Rhett is wanted by the law. We are so totally fucked if we’re caught by anyone.
As I consider our predicament, a random thought pops up. “Is Rhett your real name?”
He shoots me a look I can’t decipher.
“No.”
“What is it?”
Rhett doesn’t respond right away. He stares straight ahead, his brows furrowing. After a minute he mutters, “It was Tyler, but I don’t… Tyler died right alongside Abby. I’m not him and haven’t been in a long time. I like Rhett. I am Rhett.”
I nod but I don’t think he can see it. Staring at his paling complexion and the way his shoulders have grown tense, I decide not to ask any more questions. He’s stressed enough as it is.
Switching back to the issue at hand, I offer, “Once we get a new vehicle, I’ll take over driving.”
If I’m beat, he must be too. It’s nearly five in the morning and the sky is slowly beginning to lighten.
We’ve been out all night, and it doesn’t look like we’ll be catching a break anytime soon.
Thankfully, I’m not too banged up from the car wreck.
I’m scratched up but the glass I pulled from my skin wasn’t deep and I didn’t break or sprain anything.
Small miracles, I guess.
I pause before adding out of guilt, “If you want to stay behind and contact one of the others to come pick you up, I would understand, Rhett.”
Rhett’s grip tightens around the leather steering wheel, causing it to creak, but that’s all the reaction I get.
Maybe he’s considering it? I hope he is and pray that he’s not.
A ball of emotions works its way up my throat as I try to think clearly.
Dad prepared me for events like this. I can handle this on my own.
But I’ve gotten used to having people around.
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
It’s been a little over four hours since we left Santi on the side of the road and countless bodies in the street.
In that time, I’ve been warring with the typhoon of emotions in my chest. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, I’ve lost everything and everyone that I’ve come to care for.
I no longer have Wes to lean on, to steady me as I fall apart.
Santi isn’t here to pepper me with kisses and make me smile.
The cabin I’ve been calling home is now miles away.
And Ledger…
I clear my throat to cover up the soft grunt that wants to erupt past my lips.
I don’t know why he set all of this in motion or what I did for him to want to see me dead.
Whatever I did, I wish he would’ve just confronted me about it.
Knowing that he’s simply been waiting and watching and hoping to witness my demise hurts so much that it feels like a physical, gaping wound in the middle of my chest.
The pain of his betrayal is so abhorrent and heartbreaking that it steals my breath away.
I mentally shake my head, halting all thoughts of him.
Now isn’t the time to entertain reasons behind Ledger’s betrayal.
When I’m safe and alone, I’ll fall apart.
Until then, I have to keep it all together.
No more thoughts of Wesley or Santiago either.
The agony of knowing I’ll probably never see them again is enough to cripple me.
With a heavy sigh, I reach forward to open the glove box to see if there’s anything in there that might give us a clue as to who just tried to kill me. My hand pauses halfway there.
“Ah, we’re going to need to wash off before we’re seen in public,” I tell Rhett.
Between the blood of our victim from The Hunt and my own blood from the car accident, I look like I walked out of a horror movie. One glance at Rhett and I see he’s the same way. There’s blood smeared on his forehead and staining the entirety of the front of his clothes as well.
He nods but otherwise remains silent.
I open the glovebox to find several boxes of ammo, a map of Caddawalk, and a picture of…
me. Frowning, I hold it up and study it.
This picture… It’s not recent. My hair is pulled back into a bun, meaning it was longer than it is now, and I’m wearing dark maroon scrubs.
I only wore those when I’d been a trauma nurse in Springfield, Ohio, which was nearly six years ago.
I’d been there for only a few months, four max.
“What the hell?”
Rhett’s head turns slightly in my direction. “What is it?”
“This picture…” I mutter. “It’s of me from a while ago. Have they been watching me for years?”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Rhett mutters as he frowns. “Santi said he noticed the initial hit went out only a few weeks ago, just before you got to the cabin.”
I look from him to the image of me. Why would they have this picture? With a sigh, I tuck it away into my pants pocket and reach for the ammo next. Just as I finish reloading the clips in both of our guns, Rhett swears.
“Heads up. We have company and they’re coming up fast.”
Glancing into the side mirror, I see the black SUV barreling toward us. It’s the same one we lost back in Caddawalk, I’m sure of it.
A wave of calm settles over me as the familiarity of death and years of training kick in. It would be so easy to lock in and stay like this forever. I’m pretty sure this is how Dad gets by most of the time. I can certainly see the appeal.
“Open the sunroof,” I tell Rhett, already reaching to remove my seatbelt.
“What?”
“Rhett, now!” I snap. “I’m going to get rid of them.”
The sunroof slides open slowly. By the time there’s space for me, the SUV is close enough that I can see the passengers.
And the guns they’re holding out their windows.
“Hold the wheel steady, Rhett. They’re going to—”
Bullets start flying. The back windshield breaks and our passenger side mirror is taken off. Rhett swears but he keeps us straight. I brace a knee on the shoulder of his seat and the other knee on mine. With a deep breath, I rise up so my upper half is out of the car and I’m facing trouble.
My eyes lock onto my targets and my finger pulls back on the trigger of my gun.
My bullets sail through their windshield. The man in the passenger seat slumps forward, and I can see I’ve gotten someone in the backseat. The driver must be injured given how dramatic he swerves but he straightens and continues to barrel after us.
Two men lean out the back windows of the SUV, their rifles trained on me and our vehicle.
“Blair…” Rhett calls a warning.
He must see the danger, too.
Their guns go off in rapid succession. Bullets hit the roof and soar around me.
My return fire is more accurate. The man on the right side of the car gets a bullet straight between the eyes.
He slumps out of the window—his limp body flailing as the driver continues after us.
As I turn my attention to the other gunmen, the driver sticks his gun out his window and trains it on me.
I redirect my attention to him but before I can get off another shot, he fires.
His bullet slams into me with a force I haven’t felt in a very long time.
The fiery burn and the agony that follows nearly causes me to fall back into the car.
It takes everything in me to ignore the pain in my left arm and fire back.
The driver slumps over the steering wheel and the SUV veers sharply to the left, off the road and into a ditch.
I fire again, and again, aiming for the gas tank.
The explosion that follows is a fiery ball that’s sure to get the attention of the authorities.
“Holy shit, Blair!” Rhett exclaims with excitement. “That was fucking incredible! How the hell did you manage to do that? Fuck!” He slams his fist into the horn and it blares victoriously. “That was badass!”
My chuckle is weak as I slip back into the car and plop down into my seat. I rip the bottom of my shirt and begin to fold it. “Glad I could entertain you.”
“Do you think that's it or—Oh, shit!” He gasps in horror. “Blair, you’ve been hit!”
The car begins to slow but I snap. “Keep going! I’m fine.”
“But we need to take care of that before you bleed out!” He looks from me to the road, then back to me with wide, horror-filled eyes.
I tuck the folded fabric into my shirt sleeve and press it against the wound. There’s no stopping the grunt I let out as the pain intensifies from the pressure. Sweat starts to bead on my skin and a slight tremor rushes through me.
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just get a new car and get back on the road as soon as possible,” I grit out.
Sucking in a deep breath, I admit, “I don’t know where to go from here.
The cabin was the last resort safehouse.
I’d always thought if I left there it would be with Dad leading me to our next location. ”
“My family has a small house up in Maine, just outside of Bar Harbor,” Rhett says. He swallows hard. “There’s no way they would’ve gotten rid of it, even after the divorce. My dad loved it too much to sell it. We can bunker down there until we can come up with a better plan.”
I lean back in my seat and let out a shaky sigh. It takes everything in me to fight back the waves of nausea rushing through me.
“Alright. New clothes, new car, and then we head to Maine. Sounds like a solid plan to me.”
Rhett shakes his head. “When the coast is clear, I’m pulling over to tend to that bullet wound.”
“With what first aid?”
He shoots me a worried look that only makes me chuckle again.
“Relax, Rhett. This isn’t the first, or the worst, gunshot I’ve had—I’ll survive. And look on the bright side, if I don’t make it, you can return to Santi and—”
“Shut up, Blair.”
I flinch at the venom in his voice.
“You’re not dying on my watch, got it?”
I nod slowly, surprised by the passion in his tone.
“Yeah, I got it, Rhett.”