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"Where's the fun in that?" I joked, but my heart wasn't in it. The seed of doubt my father had planted was sprouting, its roots digging into the cracks of my carefully constructed walls.
The rain hadn't let up when I exited the building, if that's what you could call it. It was more like being shoved out on my ass like yesterday's trash but the details didn't matter.
What mattered is that I finally had something. Something that felt like it would lead me to the answers my soul so desperately sought.
Oswin Yorke. The name felt familiar in my head. It danced on the edges of my memory, teasing me with fragments of forgotten images and half-formed thoughts.
As I sprinted towards my car, a sudden blur of motion caught my eye. I whipped my head around to see Kylo's patrol car hurtling towards me. His tires screamed against the slick pavement as he skidded to a halt in front of me. The window rolled down, and his voice cut through the downpour.
"Get in!" Kylo's words rang out over the deafening sound of rain pelting against metal.
"Why? What's going on?" I shouted back, my voice barely audible over the roaring storm. I spotted Smudge, lazily curled up in a ball of black and white fur lounging in the back seat. "And was skunk-napping really necessary? Were you at my fucking apartment?"
"No time to explain! Just get in!" Kylo's eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings like he was expecting something to jump out from the shadows.
Apprehension gripped me like icy fingers, but with no other options, I lunged into the passenger seat. The car door slammed shut behind me, and before I could even buckle up, Kylo hit the gas pedal, propelling us forward with a surge of power that pressed me against the seat.
Bullets suddenly whizzed past us, tearing through the rain-soaked air. The sound of shattering glass filled the car as the windshield shattered under the shower. Instinctively, I ducked, feeling a spray of glass shards graze my cheek.
"What the hell is happening? Who are they?"
Kylo didn't answer, his focus fixated on evading our assailants. The rain-drenched streets blurred together as we swerved through the city, desperately trying to outrun the danger that lurked behind us.
As we whipped around another turn, Kylo's hands were all over the dashboard, flicking switches and mashing buttons like a mad scientist. Suddenly, the car sprang to life. For the first time since I'd met him, I couldn't keep myself from wishing it was my body that his hands were gliding so effortlessly across instead.
Shit. How desperate am I fucking getting? Is this what rock bottom feels like?
It dawned on me that Kylo might be more than just a reckless driver and pretty face. Who knew he had secret talents?
What's next? Juggling chainsaws while tap dancing?
"They're after you," Kylo finally spoke, his voice laced with urgency. "Someone wants you silenced."
My mind raced, connecting the dots in a flurry of thoughts. The prison guards' lack of laughter at my so obviously funny jokes, my father's cryptic words, and now this relentless pursuit—it was all connected, but how?
"Where are you taking me?" I gripped ‘oh shit’ handle above the door like it would somehow save me from the bullets that still whizzed past.
"Somewhere safe." Kylo grumbled. "So you can tell me what the hell is going on."
He whipped the steering wheel to the left and the entire car jarred, nearly taking out an elderly woman selling fruit on the corner.
"If we make it there alive."
Chapter
Five
Rain rushed down the windshield like it was trying to wash us all the way to hell- or maybe the Hudson, whichever came first. Kylo's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, the muscles of his arms shifting with each jerky turn. I swore my heart was going to tear through my chest as another bullet pinged off the car’s frame. "Could you possibly drive any faster, or should I start working on my last will and testament now?" My words were barely audible over the melody of rain and gunfire.
"Your sarcasm is not helping, Averill," Kylo shot back, his voice steady despite the chaos. His focus never wavered, eyes scanning the road ahead. He swerved, tires screeching like a banshee announcing our impending doom.
“Sorry, fucked up humor is my favorite defense mechanism. You'd think after four years you'd be used to it." The words tumbled out, but my pulse hammered against my temples—a sweet symphony of dread and adrenaline.
"Used to it? I thrive on it," He tossed me a grin. That smile of his could've lit up the gloomiest corners of New York, but right now, it was just a reminder that we were neck-deep in shit creek without a paddle.
As Kylo maneuvered the car through the labyrinth of traffic, I couldn't help but admire the bastard. He drove like he was born to do it—like some kind of escape artist, always one step ahead of the chains. And damn if that skill didn’t add fuel to the fire that was my growing, inconvenient attraction to him.
"Watch out!" My shout was ripped away by the wind as he swerved again, avoiding a yellow cab by inches. "Fuck me, that was close."
