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I could smack myself. Of course they’ve been watching the cameras for the last few days. I’m sure that Shane saw everything.
My face heats. I hope he didn’t see me sit out on the porch and cry. Or all the times that I thought about texting them and then stopped. God, could he hear me? He probably heard me talking to Kendall, telling her everything…
“Fucker just won’t get off my ass.” Aaron slams the brakes, and I fly around in the seats. I almost throw my arms out to brace myself. But I stop myself at the last minute.
“Fine,” Aaron snarls. “I’m going to go this way. You fucking pass. Jackass,” he mutters.
The road starts to get bumpy. Clearly, wherever he turned, it was some kind of dirt road.
“Yeah, motherfucker. Keep driving. Keep— Fuck,” he curses.
They’re never going to let you get away with this.
Even though I’m still mad at the guys for their lies, I know that in my bones. I might have been pissy with them, but I know that they’ll move heaven and earth to get me back.
The thought makes me feel… happy. Safe.
I have to figure out how to get out of here, but if I can… I know they’ll be there to help.
“What the fuck does this guy want? I’ll just?—”
There’s a loud cracking sound. Then the car spins.
I do throw out my hands now. We’re not flipping, but it’s clear that Aaron has lost control of the wheel. I think that a tire popped, because there’s a loud thunking noise as the car rolls over the dead tire. Popped, or was shot. I can’t tell which.
When we finally roll to a stop, I sit up. I ache, and I think one of my ribs might be bruised, but otherwise, I’m unhurt. Despite the fact that I wasn’t strapped into the backseat, I seem to be okay. Looking around, I first look for my stupid ex-boyfriend.
Aaron’s in the front seat, his head lolling to the side. It looks like the airbag went off, and he’s pinned behind it, stuck for the minute.
Good. Now’s my chance. I need to get the hell out of here before he wakes up. Even if I’m just running away, I can find my way back to the highway. I can get the hell out of here.
I take a hand and pick at the tape on my mouth. This is going to suck. Getting my fingernails under it, I rip. I gasp with pain as it pops off of my face.
“Fuck,” I grunt. I shut my mouth quickly, though, because I don’t want Aaron to wake up.
In the front seat, he’s stirring. I need to go, and I need to go now. Eyeing him warily, I open the door to the car.
I don’t close it. I turn, looking behind me…
And I see Clint, riding Storm, barreling down the road.
There’s no time to look and see if Shane and Landon are near, or to see if Aaron is following me as I stumble out of the car. I sprint toward him, my arms out.
“Clint!” I yell. Clint leans down, putting his arm out. He’s not going to stop.
This is not going to be fun. I stretch my arms up, leaning up as high as I can. The thunder of Storm’s hooves gets closer and closer, until it feels like they’re beating a rhythm inside my chest.
I look up, watching Clint lean down. For a second, I think that it’s not going to happen. That there’s no way he’s going to pull me up and onto that horse with him.
Then, his fingers wrap around my arms. His biceps flex. In a heartbeat, he swoops me up and plops me on the saddle in front of him.
“Are you hurt?” he asks.
I shake my head. I’m fine. Banged up a little, but not seriously hurt. “No, but…”
A gunshot makes Storm rear, and I grip the pommel, desperately trying to stay on while Clint calms Storm down.
“Move again, and I’ll shoot that fucking horse!” Aaron yells.
