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“Skye?”
She doesn’t respond, and I turn my head to look in her direction, my neck cracking as I do. I nearly black out from the pain, but the thought of her injured forces me to keep moving.
She slumped forwards, the seatbelt across her chest the only thing keeping her in position. Her eyes are open but dazed.
“Skye? Talk to me? You hurt?”
My skin feels clammy, a fear like I have never experienced in my entire life, not even at the hands my father, claiming me. All I can think about is if she or the baby are okay.
“Is anyone dead?”
Her question takes me by surprise, but I glance in the rearview mirror anyway. Ralph’s head is tipped back, blood pouring down his face. I can see the other prospect, but he ain’t talking or moving, so I take that as a bad sign.
“Can you move?” I ask, not answering her.
“I think so.” I lean over and unbuckle her, bracing in case she flops forwards, but she holds on, which fills me with so much relief. “What happened?” She sounds confused, and I don’t blame her, because I don’t have the first clue what the fuck happened.
“Car hit us.”
Ralph stirs in the back, grunting. “Everyone okay?” he asks.
I glance out the window, trying to see what hit us, and my stomach twists savagely. The front of a black 4x4 is dented but otherwise undamaged. The doors open and men in dark clothes pile out. We’re fucked.
“Ralph,” I say his name, nothing more, but I know when he sees them coming for us.
I fumble with my phone, but my hands are bloody and I can’t unlock the screen. I give up on the phone and reach into my pocket for the knife I always carry. It won’t do much in a gunfight, but I’m not fuelled by rational thought right now. All I can think about is fucking these guys up enough to give her the chance to get away.
“Get out,” I say to Skye. I don’t look at her as I say it… I can’t.
“What?”
“Run.”
“Not without you,” she says, her voice trembling.
All I need to know is that she and our baby are safe.
I reach over her, ignoring the pull on my sore body, and grab the handle, opening the door. The movement nearly drives me into a dizzying spiral. “Fucking run!” I yell at her.
Her eyes fill with tears, but she stumbles out of the car as I undo my seatbelt and open my door.
I do what I’ve avoided from the moment Skye came into my life and I let that red film consume me. I’m injured and outnumbered, but as the first man gets close, I lash out with my knife, catching him in the arm.
The others pile on me, punches and kicks hitting me from every angle. The air is pushed from my lungs as a hit slams into my chest. No matter how much I fight, I know I’m losing. Sharp pain catches me in the side of my head, making my entire body contour away from it. As I try to swing my arm back, I realise I’m no longer holding my knife.
Where the hell did that go?
That moment costs me as I’m wrestled onto the ground, my arms tugged behind my back. The tarmac beneath my cheek embeds in my skin, but the knee in my spine keeps me from moving.
Dizziness swamps me, and I blink, trying to clear the descending fog in my eyes. It’s not working. My head is throbbing, and nausea churns my gut as I try to get my feet. My limbs don’t cooperate, and everything feels heavy as darkness starts to descend over me.
One of the men stands out to me. He is waiting by the car, his hands tucked in the pockets of his long dark coat. He doesn’t look like the others, and he sure as fuck is not getting his hands dirty in this.
I hear a scream, and I know instantly it belongs to Skye. I try to move, to go to her, but my vision is fading fast and the darkness is closing in around me. The last thing I see before I completely black out is Skye’s terrified face as she’s hauled across the street and shoved in the back of a car.
CHAPTER22
SKYE
