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I close my eyes, press the gun to the driver’s head, and—
Bang!
The driver slams the brake when the bullet goes through his skull. Momentum throws me against the seatback, and I fall to the floorboards stunned dizzy as the car rolls into a ditch.
Suddenly everything stills.
The only sounds are the man gurgling blood and the hummingbird flicker of my heart.
Sweating, I can’t breathe.
My head aches, my body whines, and all I want to do is slither out and make this ditch my brand new home.
I test the door handle, but the child locks are on. With a groan, I realize I have to crawl over the guy who’s finally finished choking himself to death. He’s too heavy to move.
Closing my mouth, I climb over him, rolling into the passenger seat and diving out into the cool grass.
I take a big, shaking breath.
But I can’t rest. Can’t sit still.
I need to be off the roadside before the other goons catch up. Or maybe worse. Some wannabe samaritan pulls over, finds an omega in heat, and decides to take me by force.
I kick the door shut and stumble around to the driver's side. The door swings open easily, but the driver’s too heavy to move, hunched over the steering wheel.
Bile churns up my throat at the hole I made in his face.
I won’t lose any sleep over killing a gangster rapist, but it’s still fucking gross.
I can taste his blood, metallic with a hint of burnt toast.
I spit in the grass, then get to work.
Sweat rolls down my back, half heat and half strain. I’m not usually this weak, but even on my best day, I’m no power lifter. Thanks to the zip ties, every tug of his dead weight wrenches my wrists.
Finally, the body falls out.
I step aside, letting it roll to the bottom of the ditch with the roadside trash where it belongs. Without looking at his face, I pat him down, grabbing his gun, a couple knives, and a wallet fat with hundreds.
It takes a few tries to flick open the switchblade. Holding it tight between my knees, I saw at the zip cord until it finally pops, freeing my stinging wrists.
Catching my breath, I lean against the car. My belly cramps so hard I can barely stand.
There’s no way I’m wedging the other guy out of the car, so I leave him jammed between the seats, cringing when I sit and his body bumps my shoulder.
I buckle and carefully back the car out of the ditch.
When I hit pavement, all I see is night sky.
Minus the dead body, I have everything for the perfect escape. Car, cash, and a huge fucking distraction because the Wyverns won’t spare me a single thought until they have Orion safe in their arms.
All I need to do is drive past the city and find a shitty motel to hole up in while I ride out my heat. Then I’ll be on to my independent life. I’ll even pay back the OCC when I have the bankroll.
I try to picture my old dream—the cottage in the woods where I live alone and age in bliss, forgotten by the world, owned by no one.
Only now, all I see is Orion snarling on the grass, trying to throw the guys pinning him down.
Trying to save me.
