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Grunts can be heard nearby. Slapping of flesh like someone is getting punched over and over and over again. My heart twists violently in my chest.
Tom and Jace show up, both of them launching themselves and their gear into the truck almost simultaneously as if they rehearsed it. Tom’s big foot slams down on my shin and I cry out at the sharp pain, my arms jerking reflexively.
It’s then I feel it.
A loosening of my bindings.
I blink away the tears that won’t stop burning down my cheeks, ignoring the throb in my leg. Tom and Jace lift kids, pulling them into their laps as they settle in the bed of the truck. We’re shoved in here, packed like sardines.
CJ doesn’t make eye contact as he passes by the outside of the bed and then hops up front in the cab. Logan checks the bindings on the trailer hitch and then rushes after CJ.
“Let’s roll,” I hear Logan say before the truck door slams.
We’re leaving?
Panic swells up inside me. What about the rest of their people? Where are they? Are they just going to leave them? I manage to move my mouth enough that the material falls away and I’m able to spit out the sock.
“Ryder!” I rasp out. “Ryder!”
The smoke has done a number on my vocal cords because I can hardly get the words past my lips.
“They can’t hear you,” Jace says with a laugh but then starts coughing.
I wriggle my wrists behind me and tug until I feel my hand slip through the tight bindings. The truck begins to move slowly at first, as if the heavy load is too much for the vehicle to bear. I carefully look around to see if anyone’s noticed my near escape. Slowly, I slide my palm to where my knife remains hooked at my side. When they took us from our beds, they told us to throw on our clothes, but little did they know, my knife stays on my belt and they were too preoccupied to notice.
Now I’ll use it to stab every damn one of them.
I grip the hilt of my knife, wondering who to maim first. Mya is a selfish choice because I hate her stupid face, but Jace or Tom would subdue me before I had the chance, which means they have to be first.
The truck begins to pick up speed, but sounds can be heard from behind us. Whatever they’re pulling on the rope is dragging and bouncing and making a racket. It’s not until we break free from the choke of the smoke that I’m able to make out what it is, barely visible in the red glow of the taillights.
Beard.
Dark hair.
So much blood.
A rope around his neck.
Dad.
They’re dragging my daddy behind the truck!
Without considering the consequences, I lunge from my squished position, over Ronan’s body, and hang over the edge of the tailgate. Commotion ensues behind me. Strong hands grab my thighs, attempting to pull me back. I’m guessing it’s Jace since he was closest to me. I kick out, hitting him somewhere that obviously hurts because his hold loosens.
My arms are just long enough I’m able to reach the rope that’s wrapped around the trailer hitch. I hack through the rope feverishly, kicking and fighting the arms trying to pull me back. I’ve lost my chance to be smart about attempting an escape. All that matters is freeing my dad.
The rope isn’t completely sawed through, but I’ve made a good effort. I’ve almost succeeded when a vise-like hand grips around mine, a heavy body pinning me. I recognize Jace’s voice cursing as we fight. His other arm wraps around my throat in a chokehold that has stars bursting across my vision. The knife is torn from my hold and then he yanks me back into the bed of the truck, shoving the tip of my own blade against the throbbing vein in my neck.
“Stop. Fucking. Moving.” Jace, though breathing heavily, laughs. “Now you have to watch.”
I gape in horror as Dad continues to be dragged behind us. I didn’t do enough. I wasn’t quick enough. I couldn’t save him.
I’m sorry, Daddy.
Snap!
The rope severs suddenly, whipping back at us like a snake. It smacks me across the chest and Jace’s arm that holds me in place. It knocks the breath out of me. He howls in pain but doesn’t release me. It’s a long few seconds before I’m able to suck in air.
