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I needn’t have worried, because his truck is gone. Perversely, I’m instantly deflated because there was a small part of me hoping that Noah would save me. I’m ushered around a large black Suburban, a truck and a red Jeep. The Jeep seems out of place in my brother’s convoy. He’s not a flashy color kind of guy… and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him near a Jeep… but whatever. Having realized he planned my move to Whitefish—for God only knows what reason—I think it’s pretty clear I don’t know my brother as well as I thought.
That and the fact I underestimated him…
I’m placed in the back of a black limo all by myself. My brother leans down to smile at me through the door. Something about that smile tells me that whatever happens next—I’m really not going to like.
“I’ll see you soon, Rory. I need an up-close view of what’s about to happen. But, don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten you. You’ll be close enough to see everything,” he says right before slamming the door. I turn away from him, because my tears are really close now. I hold my head down and stare at my still flat stomach.
“We’ll make it through this, baby. We’ll make it through and I’ll get us free…Somehow…”
I make the vow… and I really hope that I can keep my promise.
I really do.43Diesel“Daddy?”
“Yeah, Little Man?”
“Does Rory hate me?”
His question causes my damn heart to spasm in my chest.
“Why do you ask that?” I question, clearing my throat at the uncomfortable emotion that comes with the question. I’ve been so lost, I hadn’t realized that my son was hurting from not having Rory… just like I was.
“She doesn’t come over when I’m there anymore and this morning when she came out of her house, I waved at her. She didn’t wave back. She just got in her car. She always waves, Dad. Sometimes, she hugs. Most of the time she hugs and she isn’t like most girls. She gives really good hugs,” he says, staring at me like I was supposed to have the magic answer.
I don’t have any answers.
I don’t have any at all.
“Maybe she didn’t see you, Ry,” I respond, turning across the bridge that will put us on the road that goes to home.
“She saw me dad and she seemed…”
“Seemed what son?”
“Really sad.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” I lie.
I’m positive that Rory is not fine. I’m positive that she’s not fine at all and that it’s my fault. Seems it’s not only Rory I hurt. It was Ryan and myself too.
That is if she’s telling the truth…
I hate that I have that thought, but I do.
“I hope so. I really like Rory. Don’t you, Dad?” Ryan asks, having no idea the pain he’s causing. Then again, it might be pain I deserve.
“Yeah, Son,” I tell him, clearing my suddenly tight throat. “I really like her.”
Fuck.
We drive a few miles in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I was knee deep in mine, so deep that I didn’t notice the red Jeep until it was beside me, passing me in a no passing zone. I slowed down, thinking to let the guy over, instead of doing that however, he swerves over to slam into my truck. I fight the wheel to keep from careening out of control.
Tire against tire, fender against fender, quarter panel against quarter panel, the sound of metal colliding then bending against each other is so loud it almost drowns out the sound of Ryan’s scream.
Almost.
I cut deep and press the gas pedal down, trying to disentangle my truck and get the fuck away. I just need to get Ryan to safety. Once I do that, I will hunt this motherfucker down and kill him.
“Dad! Watch out!” Ryan screams, my eyes ricochet from the Jeep beside us, immediately to my son. He’s pointing straight ahead and too late my gaze goes to the road. Parked across the road is a jet-black Suburban I’m headed straight for it. It’s a good distance up from us, but the entire road is blocked, the Jeep is beside us, and there’s a truck behind us, too. I’m trapped. They’re just herding us in like damn cattle.
The worst part is that I’m going too fast—too fucking fast. I slam on my brakes, angling the truck so the worst of the collision will be on my side, not Ryan’s. Adrenaline is pumping through me, it’s happening at the speed of light but, at the same time, it feels like everything is in slow motion.
The truck behind us crashes into me, jarring the fuck out of me, and out of the corner of my eye I see the way Ryan is thrust forward. I should have bought a truck with a backseat. He’s so tall for his age that I thought it would be okay. I keep him in the best seat money can buy, fucker even has alarms to tell me he’s in there—like I wouldn’t know. But, I know I have to do something to try and stop him from being hurt now.
