Page 116 of Nowhere Good

“What? Was she alive?”

“No!”

Seth loosened his grip enough for Claire to slump into his chest, sobbing. Reality fell over him and hardened like diamond.

Ron would never let her see that and just walk out.

They’d drugged her. Tortured her. Brainwashed her.

And sent her straight to him on a platter.

Fuck.

He glanced around. They were surrounded only by cornstalks and the night. “Okay, come on.” He yanked her toward the car, rougher than he’d like, but he needed her to comply. He pushed her toward the passenger side. “Come on, get back in the car. We’re leaving this town right now.”

“I never should’ve brought you here. Seth, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, just get in. We gotta go now.”

Once she was inside, he slammed the door shut and ran to the driver’s side. He hopped in and grabbed his phone from the cupholder—

Something clicked beside his head. Seth froze.

He slowly turned to his left, only to find himself eye-to-eye with the barrel of a shotgun through the open window.

Behind it, Dillon Beamish. He had one eye closed, his other open and beady, glaring as he aimed down his sights. His nostril twitched.

“Dillon,” Seth warned. “What are you doing, man?”

“Shut up and drop your phone.”

“Okay.” Slowly, Seth lowered his phone back into the cupholder, its screen still black. He didn’t even have a second to punch in an SOS. If Dillon shot that gun, it’d not only kill him, but Claire too.

“Good,” Dillon said. “Now get out of the car. You too, Claire. Out.”

Claire was crying as she fell out of the car. Seth kept his hands up and slowly opened the door, standing. Dillon directed them to the front of the Caprice.

“On your knees. Both of you.”

Seth did as instructed, lowering to the ground until the earth soaked through his jeans. He crossed his hands behind his head. Claire clumsily fell to her knees beside him and dug her palms into the grass to hold herself up, silently sobbing.

“How’d you find us?” Seth asked. If he could get Dillon talking, it might buy some time to figure out how to get out of this. He could easily disarm Dillon if he waited for the right moment. A moment when the shotgun was pointed nowhere near Claire.

The shotgun. Why’d it have to be a shotgun?

“There’s a road past the stalks there, alongside this one,” Dillon said. “My car’s lights were off. I’ve been following you.” He pressed the barrel into Seth’s temple, and Seth momentarily closed his eyes. “You’re not the only smart guy in town.”

“Yeah, you got me, Dillon. You’re obviously pissed, I get that, but you and I can work this out on our own without the gun, can’t we? Let’s let Claire go and talk it out, man-to-man.”

Dillon snorted. “Nice try, asshole.”

“What’s your plan here? How does this play out in your head? You don’t wanna go to jail. You know they always look at the boyfriend first.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Damn it. He racked his brain for something to work with, but nothing felt right. Still. He could do this.

He had to.