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Grabbing the side of the chair, I grunted in pain, attempting to move, but my leg was wedged too tight, trapping me in place. Glass bit into my skin as I shifted to look for Georgia, finding her slumped over, still secured by her seat belt in the other chair. It seemed we’d landed right side up, based on the position of everything.
Minor miracles.
I struggled to get closer when the groan of metal filled my ears. A sliver of light grew as Georgia’s door was wrenched open, and an unfamiliar face peered inside.
Indecision warred in my mind to either scream at them to back away from my woman or play dead. One would make the situation worse, only fulfilling the overwhelming need to protect her by calling out since I couldn’t physically stop them. The other could save us both.
Decision made, even if I fucking hated it, I slumped against the floorboard like I was knocked out or dead. I forced my lids closed, leaving a sliver of an opening to see through.
The flash of metal in the hand of the man who’d wedged himself into the SUV, reaching for Georgia, had me stilling. My fingers itched, desperate to search the area for my gun to protect her from the knife now inching toward her throat. I almost sighed in relief when he cut through her seat belt, though it was short-lived when he yanked her unconscious body from the wreckage, disappearing from view.
“Find a light, we’ll burn the bodies using the leaking gas. We got out who we needed. I’ll get some answers, then toss her body in with the other two fuckers.”
No!
Forgetting about the smart plan of playing dead, I wrapped both hands around the thigh of my trapped leg and jerked. Agony churned my gut, bile creeping up my throat with each hard tug, but my leg wouldn’t budge. I bit my lip to keep from yelling as I gripped below my knee, my jeans already soggy with blood, and lifted the dead weight, hoping the new angle would work.
With a sickening squelch, my leg popped free, the lower half dangling awkwardly. My back hit the floorboard, black dots dancing in my vision from the pain. Despite the sweat dripping off my skin, a chill skated down my spine. My sticky face turned clammy as I blinked up at the ceiling. I had to get to Georgia, needed to save Trap, but I couldn’t even move myself.
Toward the front, the shuffle of the debris littering the car followed by the click of a seat belt had me holding a shallow breath, which I released in a relieved exhale when Trap’s face appeared over mine. Burns and superficial scratches marked his face, but none of it took away from the fierceness behind his eyes.
“Like fuck they’re cooking us,” he whispered. His gaze flicked around the SUV. “Where the hell is your gun?”
“Lost it,” I panted. “My leg is fucked.”
“I told you to put your seat belt on, dumbass.” He disappeared for a second before appearing again, this time a Glock held in his hand outstretched toward me. “Take my spare.”
“Go save her,” I choked out. Turning my head to the side, I coughed, warm, thick spittle coming up. “Leave me.”
His focus was on the dark liquid I knew covered my lips that wasn’t spit but blood.
Never a good sign.
“Get fucked,” he snarled. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Save her,” I mumbled, the words slurred.
“Shade!”
Despite the desperation and anger in his voice, I couldn’t fight the heavy weight of my lids any longer. With his muffled, whispered yells going in one ear and out the other, I succumbed to the darkness, sinking deep into its pain-free depths.
TWENTY-THREE
GEORGIA
Muffled voices filled my head, making it throb even harder against my skull, threatening to crack the thick bone. A pain-filled groan rattled up my throat as my body shifted, the muscles and tendons screaming in agony. I parted my lips to tell whoever held me to leave me alone, but I couldn’t even get my eyes open, much less utter a word.
The thick fog blurring my thoughts slowly diminished, bringing with it the sounds of loud male voices nearby. Too close. The feeling of free-falling lifted my stomach before a sharp cry of pain screeched out of my throat when my battered body collided with the hard ground. Grass tickled the tips of my fingers and the backs of my thighs. Pain laced through my veins, but the anxiety of not knowing where I was and who I was with surged energy to my lids.
The first blink hurt.Fuck, how do even my eyelids feel bruised?The darkness cleared from my vision after several blinks, but it didn’t change my confusion. Hovering over me was a dark figure, a streetlamp backlighting him, casting shadows over his face. The lean shoulders, thicker middle, and stance were all wrong.
“Trap?” I croaked. Pain raced along my neck, making me cry out when I tried to turn my head to find my two men. “Shade?”
“Dead.”
The finality of the man’s tone, the enjoyment that lifted his voice, had me stilling.
A voice that was also… familiar.
