Chapter 3 #2
She could not move. Her feet were covered in little socks—booties?—that one of the nurses had given to her. Those covered feet of Sloane’s seemed glued to the floor.
“Preston…” She should tell him. Really. She should. But finding the right words was gonna be hard.
He nodded. “Time to go.” He scooped her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” She locked her left arm around his neck. “I can walk.”
“I can carry you faster.”
Highly doubtful. But he was rushing with her through hospital corridors as nurses and doctors gaped, and when she and Preston entered a waiting area a moment later, Atlas and Lily immediately sprang forward.
“What is happening here?” Lily demanded.
Sloane shrugged. Attempted to, anyway. “Apparently, he can carry me faster than I can walk?” Still debatable.
“You freaking run marathons for fun, Sloane. No way can he carry you faster.” A flat and serious response from Lily. It was also a true response. She did run for fun.
She ran so she could be away from the rest of the world. So there was just the pounding of her feet on the earth. So she could hear nothing but the furious beat of her own heart.
And not the screams that so often haunted her.
“Put her down.” A snapped order from Atlas. “Now.”
“No.” An equally snapped response from Preston.
Atlas quirked a brow. “Are things about to get messy between us?”
“I just fucking crawled out of a grave. You don’t want to screw with me right now.”
Sloane smiled at Lily. “Thanks for the save.”
“What are you doing, Sloane?” Real worry underscored Lily’s words.
“I’m good.” Her eyes tried to convey another message to Lily. Trust me. “Preston thinks I’m in danger.”
“You were just pulled out of the ground,” Lily emphasized. “Yes, you are in danger. I agree. One hundred percent. The jerk who buried you is still out there. The Feds are going to take over this case—they are coming in because we all know it looks just like the work of the Last Breath Killer.”
Preston tensed.
Sloane stroked her fingers down the back of his neck.
“Oh, what?” Lily’s hands went to her hips. “Was I supposed to act like I didn’t recognize the obvious?”
“Of course not, darling.” Atlas edged closer to Lily. He always did that. Got close. Placed his body protectively near hers. “You don’t suffer bullshit.”
No, Lily didn’t. She didn’t waste energy on falseness. One of the things that Sloane had always liked about Lily. I don’t have to pretend with her. She knows what I’m like deep inside.
“You escaped him before,” Lily added as her stare sharpened on Preston.
“I’m not taking a damn walk down memory lane right now with you. I’m getting Sloane out of here before the reporters close in. I’m keeping her.” A pause. “I’m keeping her safe,” he corrected.
And I’m just keeping you, Preston. Wow. That thought had slid through her head, all sneaky and tempting, and she should shut it down but…
It was hard to forget just how well the man had kissed in the darkness.
“You…found her.” Halting, from Preston. “You searched for her. You were digging her out. So I wanted you to know where Sloane was going. That’s why I brought her to this waiting area.”
“You could also say thanks,” Atlas noted. “You know, seeing as how Lily and I helped save your life, too.” He rolled one shoulder. “According to the rules of legend, you now owe us your first born.”
Lily sighed. Heavily. “He didn’t mean that.” Atlas could be…a lot.
“I did mean that the man should thank us.” A fast retort from Atlas. “We were pivotal in the rescue mission. I hired those people who were helping dig him up—”
“I’m going home with him,” Sloane cut in before Atlas got too wound up. “I’ll check in tomorrow. After we’ve rested.”
“Sloane…” A warning edge in Lily’s voice.
“I know what I’m doing.” Maybe. Potentially. Perhaps not. “He was the target, not me.”
Atlas peered over Preston’s shoulder. “Very determined doctors in white lab coats are storming this way. If you’re departing, I would suggest you do so now.” A brisk nod. “In the meantime, I’ll start my own investigation.”
“We’ll start it,” Lily corrected.
“Thank you,” Preston gritted out the words. Again, rusty, rusty words. Apparently, he did not often say please or thank you. “I will owe you, and I will pay you back.”
“Just not with a first born,” Sloane mumbled, but she didn’t know if Atlas or Lily even heard her because Preston was already moving. Not heading for the front of the hospital but dipping and dodging through a maze of corridors.
“This is not your first visit,” she murmured. No way could it be. She was lost, but he clearly wasn’t.
“I donated a wing.”
Sure.
He swept them past a security guard who frowned but didn’t stop the two people in scrubs before they exited through sliding glass doors. Sloane found herself in what looked like a loading zone. Lots of dollies. Some pallets. A few trucks.
And a limo.
Which one of these does not belong?
A driver jumped out of the limo. Opened the back door for Preston. In moments, Preston had her tucked inside the limo, and then they were driving off into the night.
They probably should have talked more to the sheriff and her deputies.
But she was just incredibly grateful to be out of the hospital. Not her favorite venue. She would have said a hospital was her least favorite place to be, but…
I have a new least favorite place to be now. That place would be in the ground, buried alive in a wooden coffin. A hospital was her second least favorite place to be.
Sloane was confident that the sheriff would find them soon enough. For the moment, she was just happy that she’d accomplished a few items on her to-do list.
Item one…Get out of my grave.
Done. With some timely assistance from her friends.
Item two…Stay close to Preston.
Again, done. All because he seemed to want to keep her at his side.
Lovely, of course. Perhaps he’d felt that intense connection between them the same way she had.
Maybe he’d been intent on keeping her close because part of him wanted to pick up where they’d left off.
Kissing in the back of the limo would be far better than kissing in the tight confines of a coffin.
And maybe they’d even go a step beyond kissing.
She sent him a hopeful, wide smile. There was a soft, warm glow of light in the back of the limo.
Romantic lighting. He’d be able to see her smile clearly.
Preston’s head tilted as his stare drifted to her smile. His expression seemed to harden. “All right, Sloane, cut the bullshit.”
Um…pardon?
“Who the fuck are you?”
She’d given the man her name. He’d literally just said it. He’d said…All right, Sloane, cut the bullshit.
But…
His angry voice bit out, “Who are you really? Why were you at my house? Why were you on my private property?” He sat across from her on the leather seat of the limo. Preston leaned forward, his hands dangling between his spread knees. “And what the hell do you know about the Last Breath Killer?”
Oh, she knew quite a few things about that particular serial killer. Things like the fun fact that…
The Last Breath Killer was actually Preston’s biological father.
A fact that she did not think Preston knew.
So, was this the moment when she sent his world spinning? Or had his night already been shitty enough? Being buried alive certainly weighed heavily on the shitty scale.
Then again, finding out that your long-lost dad was a serial killer…
That sucked, too.