50
We propelled faster through the forest, the twigs snagging at my shirt and cutting through. I felt the blood soak into my shirt, dampening the material against my skin, stinging… Just as we neared the light in the distance, I realized it was the headlights of a car in the clearing, back on the road. I heard the sound, the revving of the engine, as if the vehicle or whoever was in it had been waiting for us to just burst out of the woods.
Dominic didn’t look surprised. His brows tugged into a brow at first and then released, his lips curling into a smile. I continued to look at him as we tore through the woods, nearing the opening, my heart banging against my chest, vaulting into my throat, pulse pounding behind my ears, mouth dry, moist, itching palms, expecting a word from him, explanation at least.
“Dominic!” I screamed.
He glanced over his shoulder, barely breaking stride, his lips curling into this smug little grin like he knew something I didn’t. Like I was the punchline to a joke he hadn’t bothered to tell.
“Aw, come on,” he called, panting, breath ragged. “You didn’t think I’d drag you out here without a plan, did you?”
My chest burned, each breath ragged, the taste of blood in the back of my throat. “A plan?” I wheezed. “This looks a hell of a lot like a trap!”
Dominic laughed. Actually laughed. It wasn’t loud—it was low, almost under his breath, but I felt it like a slap to the face. We were running from the cops, twigs snapping at us, barely outrunning them and he was laughing? “Trap? Sweetheart, it’s called thinking ahead.”
We tore through the last of the trees, the headlights exploding into view like a punch to the eyes. I stumbled, the uneven ground threatening to yank my feet out from under me. Dominic whipped around before I could collide face first into the asphalt road, his arm enclosing around my arm as he yanked me forward. He wasn’t letting me go. Not now.
The engine growled, headlights glaring as the car idled just a few feet away. My heart was jackhammering against my ribs, my body begging me to stop, to turn back, to do anything but run straight into the blinding light.
“Dominic, wait—” I started, voice cracking.
“Stop overthinking,” he snapped, not looking back this time. “You wanna live? Move.”
I dug my heels in. "What if it’s not for us? What if this is—"
He spun, his eyes locking onto mine. They were wild, dark, that kind of controlled chaos that made you either want to trust him or slap him. “It’s for us,” he said, like it wasn’t even up for debate. “You can stand here and die if you want, but I’m getting in that car.”
His words hurt me, I couldn’t deny the way my stomach dropped and my heart throbbed because they hurt so much, like I had a knife lodged into my chest. I didn’t like this sudden change of his attitude, how he made it seem like I was stupid for asking and wanting to be sure we were safe.
The vehicle roared, its tires kicking up dirt as it skidded closer. My legs weren’t working. I couldn’t move.
The passenger door swung open with a screech, and a guy leaned out, shotgun balanced like it was an extension of his arm. His face was sharp, weathered, the kind of face that looked like it’d been through hell and hadn’t come out clean.
“Took your sweet time,” he barked, voice rough like gravel underfoot.
Dominic smirked, dragging me forward without missing a beat. “She likes to make an entrance.”
He shoved me toward the open door. “Get in.”
I hesitated, the car too loud, the air too thick. My pulse was a roar in my ears. “Who is he?” I demanded, planting my feet even as my knees shook. “Who the hell is he?”
Dominic sighed, like I was asking him to explain why the sky was blue. “He’s the guy who’s not gonna let us die tonight. Get in the damn car.”
The sound of breaking branches snapped me back, closer this time. Shouts—men’s voices. My head whipped back toward the woods, and I didn’t need to see them to know they were coming.
I climbed in, the smell of sweat and metal and old leather hitting me as Dominic slid in behind me, slamming the door shut.
The driver didn’t wait. He punched the gas, the car screaming as it fishtailed out of the clearing. I hit the seat hard, Dominic’s arm snapping out to steady me.
“Good girl,” he muttered, but there was something sharper behind his grin now. Like we weren’t out of the woods yet.
Literally or figuratively.
When the car had driven a safe distance, I leaned against the car seat and pressed my eyes shut. I was beyond exhausted, my heart still racing, and my breath escaping me in wheezes. My eyes pressed shut, and my fingers trembled as I clutched at the car seat, my head reeling in pain.
I felt Dominic lean in from my left, his arm hovering around my shoulder, his lips pressed into the sweaty side of my temple and he kissed my skin gently. “You did good,” he muttered, barely a whisper.
I opened my eyes. A little tense. Shoved him off. He didn’t budge. I didn’t want to deal with him, not now, not after everything, not after those words he mentioned to me. His touch made my skin burn, but I didn’t know if it was from irritation or something else entirely. I shoved him off again, more out of instinct than anything, my heart still thudding painfully in my chest.
His hand slid off my shoulder, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he was testing me. I didn’t care. I shifted my focus to the man driving. He was an older guy, rugged, with graying stubble and a face that looked like it had seen too many things it shouldn’t have. His hair were healthy strands, I gave that to him, despite how old and rugged he looked. They fell over his forehead and temples in dark brown wavy strands, with few grey strands standing out. His eyes—dark brown—flickered back to the rearview mirror every few seconds, sharp and alert, like he was anticipating someone’s next move.
I felt the tension in the air, thick, suffocating. The headlights of the car cut through the dark, but every time we passed an intersection or a bend in the road, I could feel the pressure mounting in my chest.
“You don’t think they’re following us, do you?” I asked, my voice still shaky. I didn’t want to look back, didn’t want to see if they were there. But the question hung in the air, the silence promising to derail me into madness.
Dominic’s eyes flicked to me, amusement still dancing in them. “You worry too much.”
Of course.
I swallowed hard, fingers gripping the seat tighter as the car swerved around a curve. The guy in the front seat—who I still didn’t know—didn’t respond. He just kept glancing back, like he was watching something I couldn’t see, a constant undercurrent of caution running through every move he made.
“Why doesn’t he say anything?” I muttered, my tone sharper now, trying to keep myself together.
Dominic finally leaned back, stretching out like he owned the entire damn car, his head resting on the headrest. “Doesn’t talk much. Better that way.”
“Better for who?”
“Better for us,” Dominic shot back. His voice was steady now, his confidence oozing into the cramped space. “He’s not the type to waste words. And right now, you don’t need distractions.”
I blinked, trying to calm the pulse of panic rising in my throat. I couldn’t see past the dark windows, but I felt like we were being followed. The silence between us stretched out until it felt suffocating.
The man driving adjusted the rearview mirror again, his eyes narrowing slightly, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the road ahead or something else. A moment later, he muttered under his breath, a low curse, and I caught the tension in his shoulders.
“You think we lost them?” I asked, more out of a desperate need for reassurance than anything.
He didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was clipped, urgent. “We’re not out of reach yet. Stay sharp.”
Dominic’s smirk faltered, a flicker of something—something I couldn’t quite place—passing over his face. He leaned forward, closer now, his voice low, dangerous. “And for the record, sweetheart, you’ve got a lot more than just being sharp to worry about.”
I shot him a glare, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he looked over at the driver. “Take the next exit. We’ll lose them in the back roads.”
The car veered, the tires screeching against the pavement, and I braced myself against the seat as the sharp turn threw my body to the side. My heart was racing again, faster this time, knowing that the danger wasn’t over, not by a long shot.
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