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My heart drops, and I’m not sure why. “But…”
“There’s gas in the car?”
I look back at the DeVille, then down at myself. Chuck’s blood is splattered across the broken pavement like a twisted work of art, and my brain refuses to comprehend it. I’m freezing all of a sudden, the tears clogged somewhere deep in my gut, and nothing makes sense. But I really don’t want to be alone right now. Is he really gonna leave me alone right now?
“I don’t know,” I say.
Ghost peers behind him briefly before he walks away, peeking in the driver’s side. When he comes back, he’s got a wad of hundreds pinched between his fingers, and he holds it out to me.
When I don’t take it, he pulls my hand out and places it there, folding my fingers over it.
“That should help you figure it out.”
I stare down at the obscene amount of money. The sounds I manage to force out aren’t English. I’m pretty sure they’re not even words. It took me years to stash maybe half of this, and he’s handing it out like a party favor.
Ghost forces a breath. “Tell no one about what you saw here.”
“I have no one to tell,” I whisper. “I… I have nowhere to go.”
I look up at him, but am met by his back as he walks away with finality. Murder, the giant, is clearly conflicted, looking me over like I’m a dog he hit with his car. He trails after Ghost, grabbing his elbow, hissing down at him, and is shoved away as Ghost opens his own car door.
“After what happened with Mabel, you’re really gonna let her just go?” Murder snaps, loud enough for me to hear.
“Never,”Ghost snarls, shoving the larger man’s hand off him again, “bring her up again.”
Mayhem doesn’t even glance at me, more worried about fitting something in the trunk of his car. He’s in another world, honestly, a childish spring in his step and a happy little grin on his face.
I mean, I get it, but I knew the man in his trunk. I have a reason to be chipper, sick as it is.
I’m sure, in an hour, I’ll regret being rash, and not jumping in the DeVille and driving as far and as fast as I could. Hell, if I’d give myself five minutes to catch up with what just happened, I might even regret it sooner.
But I don’t.
“Wait.” I hop off the back of the car I never want to see again and rush forward, stopping between the front of the two sports cars. “Wait, please.”
Ghost points for Murder to go like he’s directing a petulant child, but he hesitates himself, watching me as the giant does what he’s told.
I dart around the bigger man, all sense of survival long gone, and run toward Ghost. The man with the haunting gaze and the blood of my captor on his hands, the man any sane girl would be running as fast as she could away from.
Me? I launch myself forward and hug his waist like a life raft in the middle of the ocean.
“Oh.” Ghost’s arms hover out at his sides, his body tight.
“Thank you,” I choke, hiding in his chest, too afraid to see whatever his reaction to this might be. I don’t know why he chose to save me, but I’m not stupid enough to think it’s because I’m special or noteworthy to him. It’s what a good person would do.
His methods might not have been the best, but… His intentions are pure. And I owe him for that.
His hands finally settle on my back, so awkward and tentative it actually makes me sick. I let him go fast, keeping my eyes down, half to hide the shame, half because I just can’t handle the discomfort he must be feeling over someone like me clutching him so tightly. “Sorry.”
“Don’t,” he says quickly, then clears his throat. His voice is thicker now. “I—God damnit.”
I take a step back, rubbing my elbow. “S-Sorry,” I say again.
“You must have somewhere,” Ghost implores. “A friend, or…”
I peek up at him, anxious, but relief chases in when I see he’s nothing but conflict and frustration that doesn’t seem to be directed at me.
“You don’t,” he says. “Your mom…”
