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We sprint across the open area in front of us, heading for another stand of empty containers.
There’s an odd driveway-like path that cuts through the buildings up ahead, and we start in that direction.
That main office might have a working phone, and regardless of that, it’s still likely closest to the highway.
Walking down the road in the open isn’t a comforting feeling, and I can tell Luke isn’t loving it, either, because he hurries me forward as fast as I can go while remaining low.
The knots in my stomach have yet to abate, and that typical empty belly, morning nausea I’ve been feeling these past few days is back in full force.
Because despite my current situation, I am, in fact, still pregnant.
Fucking hell. This is so screwed up.
A low rumbling sound knocks me out of my thoughts, and I look behind me toward the noise.
“Do you hear that?” I look to Luke, furrowing my brow.
He scans the horizon, and then I see his mouth fall open slightly.
“Shit.”
Chapter 38
Luke
I do hear that sound, and I know what it is. This isn’t good.
As soon as I get Clara running alongside me, saying screw it to keeping low, the loud roar of an engine bursts over the small hill separating us from the back half of the property.
Cresting the hill like something out of an action flick, Marco’s in a tan four-door coupe, driving like a damn bat out of hell toward us, and I know what he has planned.
“Dammit.” I shake my head, hurrying Clara over toward a building with a narrow walkway beside it. “Why didn’t I fucking think to look for a damn car.”
Breaths rush in and out of Clara’s lungs as she works to keep up with me, and as she looks back over her shoulder, her eyes go wide.
“Well,” Clara yells, “you do likely have a concussion. And this is not good for that leg injury.”
Despite how fucked we are, I smile down at her as we sprint for the nearest remotely safe place.
She seems to know just the right thing to say, even at a time like this. And something swells behind my chest—something much more pleasant than fear.
“What leg injury, darlin’?”
Clara looks over, a playfully annoyed smirk on her face. Looking down as if this is news to me, I just turn the corners of my mouth down.
“Oh, would you look at that? Must be why it hurts so much to run.”
Clara rolls her eyes. We’re getting close to the building, and I’m thoroughly distracting her from being overwhelmed by panic.
“Must be.”
Shock reverberates up my legs, the pain of that wound very much on my mind, and I grit my teeth as it burns more and more.
“We’ll get out of this, love.”
But then the motor revs behind us, and Marco pulls up fast in his damn coupe. He swerves into our path, and Clara and I have to jump out of the way.
I roll across the ground with her until we can drag ourselves up and look for another option.
