chest like a child. I tried to tell him I would walk, but when I glanced back at the truck, the words died on my lips.
“Are we taking that?” I asked shakily.
“Yep.”
I began to shake. He stopped and looked between me and the truck. His lips turned into a thin, straight line.
“I’ll be okay,” I said, forcing my voice to be strong. That truck was our way out of this hell. I wasn’t about to make things harder than they were.
He nodded briskly and strode the short distance to the truck and peered into the passenger -side window. When he tried the handle, it opened and he snorted.
“Idiot,” I heard him mouth under his breath.
He stepped up to the inside of the truck, between the seat and the door. Instead of depositing me on the seat, he tightened his hold and looked down.
“The bad shit’s over. I won’t let him touch you again.”
I nodded. His words loosened something inside me and made it easier to breathe. Gently, he placed me on the seat and then pulled back slightly. From this close, I could see the tenderness in his eyes, and then he pressed a kiss to my forehead.
When he climbed into the driver’s seat , I glanced at the ignition. “There’s no keys,” I noted, nerves fluttering around in my chest.
“I don’t need keys ,” he replied confidently.
I couldn’t see what he was doing , but it sounded like he ripped out a part of the dash and then he shoved his hand up inside and pulled out a handful of wires.
“They teach you how to hotwire a car in the Marine Corps?” I asked incredulously.
He grinned. “Nope. I was a teenager once.”
I couldn’t help it. I smiled.
Then I glanced out the window. A familiar figure was rushing through the rain at us.
“Nathan,” I cried, pointing in the direction of Lex.
The truck roared to life and he threw it in drive. The blast of a gun and the shattering of glass had me screaming.
“Get down,” Nathan barked as he shoved at my head until I slid onto the floorboard.
I heard the truck accelerate and it fishtailed over the slick ground, but he didn’t slow down. He ripped and roared down the side of the mountain until the gunshots couldn’t even be heard in the distance.
18
Nathan
He shot out the back window. Holy shit, when that glass shattered and shards of it started raining from behind, I almost busted a vein. Honor was sitting right there. Right. Fucking. There.
If she’d have been shot or stabbed , I would have stopped the truck right then and killed him.
Bullets wouldn’t have stopped me.
But the bullet didn’t hit her, and as I tore down the mountain, I glanced toward the floorboard, expecting to see her spurting out red rain.
I never wanted to see that sight again.
But she wasn’t bleeding. She didn’t look hurt at all (well, no more than before).
“He’s crazy!” she yelled over the rumble of the truck ’s engine as she gripped the edge of the seat while I flew around a curve. We came a little too close to going over the edge and plummeting down into the trees, so I laid off the gas.
Honor started to push herself up but then swore. I cut my eyes over to see a fresh trail of red sliding from the palm of her hand and winding a path down the inside of her wrist.
My stomach turned. The sight of blood didn’t bother me, but the sight of it pouring from Honor’s body did.
“Stay down,” I said, averting my gaze. “There’s too much glass up here.”
But just because I wasn’t looking didn’t mean she stopped bleeding. With one hand, I reached around my neck and yanked the long-sleeve waffle-knit tee I was wearing over my head. I tossed it at her. “Here, wrap that around your hand.”
“I don’t want to ruin your shirt.”
“You prefer blood loss?”
“I owe you a shirt with your pie,” she said , and I smiled.
A few minutes later , I glanced back down at her hand, which was now completely covered with my shirt. She looked small, hunched down there on the floor. And pale. Her skin stood
“Are we taking that?” I asked shakily.
“Yep.”
I began to shake. He stopped and looked between me and the truck. His lips turned into a thin, straight line.
“I’ll be okay,” I said, forcing my voice to be strong. That truck was our way out of this hell. I wasn’t about to make things harder than they were.
He nodded briskly and strode the short distance to the truck and peered into the passenger -side window. When he tried the handle, it opened and he snorted.
“Idiot,” I heard him mouth under his breath.
He stepped up to the inside of the truck, between the seat and the door. Instead of depositing me on the seat, he tightened his hold and looked down.
“The bad shit’s over. I won’t let him touch you again.”
I nodded. His words loosened something inside me and made it easier to breathe. Gently, he placed me on the seat and then pulled back slightly. From this close, I could see the tenderness in his eyes, and then he pressed a kiss to my forehead.
When he climbed into the driver’s seat , I glanced at the ignition. “There’s no keys,” I noted, nerves fluttering around in my chest.
“I don’t need keys ,” he replied confidently.
I couldn’t see what he was doing , but it sounded like he ripped out a part of the dash and then he shoved his hand up inside and pulled out a handful of wires.
“They teach you how to hotwire a car in the Marine Corps?” I asked incredulously.
He grinned. “Nope. I was a teenager once.”
I couldn’t help it. I smiled.
Then I glanced out the window. A familiar figure was rushing through the rain at us.
“Nathan,” I cried, pointing in the direction of Lex.
The truck roared to life and he threw it in drive. The blast of a gun and the shattering of glass had me screaming.
“Get down,” Nathan barked as he shoved at my head until I slid onto the floorboard.
I heard the truck accelerate and it fishtailed over the slick ground, but he didn’t slow down. He ripped and roared down the side of the mountain until the gunshots couldn’t even be heard in the distance.
18
Nathan
He shot out the back window. Holy shit, when that glass shattered and shards of it started raining from behind, I almost busted a vein. Honor was sitting right there. Right. Fucking. There.
If she’d have been shot or stabbed , I would have stopped the truck right then and killed him.
Bullets wouldn’t have stopped me.
But the bullet didn’t hit her, and as I tore down the mountain, I glanced toward the floorboard, expecting to see her spurting out red rain.
I never wanted to see that sight again.
But she wasn’t bleeding. She didn’t look hurt at all (well, no more than before).
“He’s crazy!” she yelled over the rumble of the truck ’s engine as she gripped the edge of the seat while I flew around a curve. We came a little too close to going over the edge and plummeting down into the trees, so I laid off the gas.
Honor started to push herself up but then swore. I cut my eyes over to see a fresh trail of red sliding from the palm of her hand and winding a path down the inside of her wrist.
My stomach turned. The sight of blood didn’t bother me, but the sight of it pouring from Honor’s body did.
“Stay down,” I said, averting my gaze. “There’s too much glass up here.”
But just because I wasn’t looking didn’t mean she stopped bleeding. With one hand, I reached around my neck and yanked the long-sleeve waffle-knit tee I was wearing over my head. I tossed it at her. “Here, wrap that around your hand.”
“I don’t want to ruin your shirt.”
“You prefer blood loss?”
“I owe you a shirt with your pie,” she said , and I smiled.
A few minutes later , I glanced back down at her hand, which was now completely covered with my shirt. She looked small, hunched down there on the floor. And pale. Her skin stood
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