135
Dominic’s patience was hanging by a thread, unraveling right before my eyes. His grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white, his fingers twitching ever so slightly as if itching to throw the car into gear and get the hell out of here. His jaw was locked so tightly I could see the muscles flexing along the side of his face, the rigid lines of his features carved with frustration and growing agitation. He was going to leave. I could feel it in the way his foot hovered over the gas pedal, in the way his other hand kept shifting toward the gear stick like he was trying to resist the urge to just take off, consequences be damned. My stomach coiled into a tight, suffocating knot, a deep sense of unease making my pulse hammer against my ribs.
Tina wasn’t here. She should have been. Every second that passed without her sprinting toward us was another second that shoved a knife deeper into my gut. I didn’t know where she was, what was happening, if she was even still breathing. The thought of abandoning her, of repaying her kindness with cruelty, made my insides churn with disgust. She had helped me when she didn’t have to. She had thrown herself into danger for me and Adam. And now, what? I was just supposed to sit here and let Dominic speed away, leaving her to whatever fate had caught up to her? No. I couldn’t. My hands balled into fists in my lap, my nails digging into my skin so hard it hurt. The idea of just taking off without her made my stomach feel like it was filled with lead.
Beside me, Adam let out another small, hiccuping sob, his entire little body trembling as he pressed himself closer to my side. His tiny hands fisted the fabric of my sleeve, his face wet with tears as he tried to muffle the sounds of his crying, like he didn’t want to be a burden. His whole body was tense, his breathing uneven and shallow, his fear so palpable I could feel it vibrating off him. It broke me. He was just a child, caught in the middle of something he should never have had to experience. He was terrified, exhausted, and desperate for something—anything—to feel safe again. I wanted to reach for him, to hold him close and promise that everything would be okay, but how could I do that when I didn’t even know if it was true?
Dominic’s fingers tightened around the wheel until I thought he might just snap it in half. His breathing had become sharp, controlled, the kind of deep inhales and exhales that told me he was seconds away from making a choice I wouldn’t like. His eyes flickered toward me for the briefest moment, cold and determined.
“Five seconds, Eleanor,” he said, his voice like gravel, raw with irritation and warning.
Panic shot through me like a live wire. My head snapped toward the street, my vision blurring slightly as my eyes darted over the crowd, searching, hoping, praying. My heartbeat was so loud it drowned out everything else.
And then I saw her.
A sharp gasp ripped from my throat.
Tina.
She came tearing around the corner like she had been shot out of a gun, her entire body moving with a kind of frantic, desperate energy that sent a cold shiver racing down my spine. Her platinum blonde hair was plastered to her forehead, her skin slick with sweat, her expression twisted into something between sheer determination and pure fear. Her face was flushed red, her chest heaving, her body visibly straining to keep up with the insane pace she had set for herself. A fresh bruise was already blooming along her cheekbone, an ugly patch of darkening purple against her pale skin, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that she was still running like her life depended on it.
And behind her, rounding the same corner she had come from, were Alaric’s men.
Oh, fuck.
My entire body tensed, my fingers digging into the seat beneath me, my breath catching in my throat. This wasn’t just her trying to get to us. She was being chased.
People were in her way. A woman in a fitted green dress shrieked as Tina plowed into her, the iced coffee she had been holding slipping from her grasp and splashing across the front of her expensive-looking clothes. She stumbled backward, arms flailing, her expression morphing from shock to outrage. An older man with a weathered face and a newsboy cap let out a startled grunt as Tina slammed into his side, his wooden cane clattering to the ground as he fought to steady himself. He glared after her, but she was already gone, too focused on getting to the car to care about the chaos she left in her wake. A teenage boy, earbuds shoved into his ears, barely had time to react before her shoulder smashed into his chest, sending his phone flying from his hands. It hit the pavement with a sickening crack, the screen shattering on impact.
People were yelling, cursing, throwing their arms up in frustration. Some tried to move out of her way, others weren’t fast enough.
She wasn’t stopping.
And then, out of nowhere, a cop stepped directly into her path.
He tried to grab her, his mouth moving, yelling something I couldn’t hear through the thick glass of the car. But Tina didn’t slow down. She twisted her body at the last possible second, her fist flying forward, and with a sickening, bone-crunching impact, she drove it straight into his face. Blood spurted instantly. The cop crumpled like a ragdoll, hitting the ground hard, his hands flying to his nose as he let out a sharp, agonized groan.
She was almost here. Almost.
I was still pressing myself closer to the door, trying to make as much space as possible. My fingers clutched Adam’s hand tighter, reassuring him, reassuring myself. She was going to make it.
The door wrenched open, and before I could say anything, she threw herself into the passenger seat and slammed it shut.
Her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, her entire body shaking, her hands gripping her knees as she cursed under her breath. And now, finally, I could hear her.
“You motherfuckers,” she spat, her accent thick, her voice raw and hoarse. “You said Bethesda Terrace. I sprinted there like an idiot only to get fucking boycotted. I had to take the long way around, then got fucking jumped.”
Dominic didn’t even look at her. He just slammed his foot down on the gas.
The car lurched forward so violently that I was thrown back into my seat, my head snapping against the headrest. Adam yelped beside me, his little hands gripping onto me like a lifeline.
Outside, the world blurred into a chaotic mess of people diving out of the way, horns blaring, voices shouting.
My heart was still hammering, still caught in the frantic, suffocating panic of the moment. But then I saw it. The blood.
Tina’s hands were shaking, her fingers trembling as they ran through her sweat-drenched hair. And they were coated in blood.
Not just a few streaks. Thick, wet blood. Fresh.
My stomach twisted into a tight, sickening knot.
“Tina,” I breathed, my voice almost lost beneath the roar of the engine. “Are you hurt?”
She let out a breathless, humorless laugh. “That bitch didn’t play fair,” she rasped. “Pulled a fucking pocket knife on me.”
And then she lifted her shirt.
I barely bit back the horrified gasp that clawed up my throat.
The wound was deep, just below her ribs, an angry, jagged gash that was still oozing blood. The edges of it were uneven, raw, the flesh torn apart like the blade had twisted while inside her.
Adam made a strangled sound, turning his face away, squeezing his eyes shut as if not looking would make it less real.
Dominic swore under his breath, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles turned bone-white.
Tina hissed, pressing her palm against the wound. “She got me good.”
The sirens were getting closer.
Dominic clenched his jaw, eyes dark. “Hold on.”
And with that, he swerved hard, the car skidding as we sped through Central Park, narrowly missing the people still scrambling out of the way.