Page 35 of Split You Open

Rhett catches my wrist before I can stab the knife into my hip.

“I have to get that tracker out of me,” I snarl.

He glowers at me. “You can’t just stab yourself!”

“Watch me.”

He wrestles the knife from my grip and holds it over my head when I try to snatch it back.

“Or,” he counters. “You let me do it.”

I blink, thrown by the offer. “Really? You’d⁠—”

“Cut you open, dig around under your flesh for what I assume is a tracker the size of a piece of rice? Yeah.” He gives me a lopsided smirk. “I’m willing to do that for you.”

Despite his teasing, I can see the seriousness flicker behind those dark eyes. Rhett will do this for me if I want the help. No doubt he wants the tracker gone as much as I do. With a deep breath, I concede with a nod.

“Alright, if you’re sure…”

“I get to stab you, hell yeah I’m sure,” he drawls. “Payback for trying to shoot my balls back at the quarry.”

I can’t help it—I snort a laugh at that.

“Fine, fair enough.”

Rhett gives me a half-smile but it’s short-lived as he adjusts his grip on the blade. “Once I’m done, we’ll figure out our next steps, okay?”

Before the knife even touches my skin, the sound of gunshots peppers the air. Rhett’s head jerks up and our eyes meet for just a second before I’m moving.

I climb up on top of the van to use it as a vantage point. There, coming up the road we’re on, are four different vehicles. Three black SUVs and a familiar white truck right on their tail.

“Oh, shit…”

“What?!” Rhett asks. “What is it?”

“Ledger’s found us—and so have Dixie’s people.”

Rhett swears as I climb down. “Is there any other way back to the main road?”

“Nope.” I scan the area. “We’re going to have to fight our way out of this.” An idea forms and I grin as I look back at Rhett. “And while we do that, we’ll catch a traitor and bring him home.”

Rhett laughs but the sound is strained. “Alright… Tell me where you need me and let’s do this.”

“First, cut this damn tracker out me.”

He lifts the knife in his hand and says, “We need to make this quick. It’ll hurt.”

“Just do it, Rhett.”

Nine

Ledger

Eight days.

Fifteen hours.

Thirty-three minutes.