28. TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-EIGHT

I don't know how long we've been walking.

To be fair, none of us do. We were let off on a scenic byway at a lookout point and have been hiking down the side of a mountain through dense forest for what feels like hours. Declan has a flashlight in the front and Rhett in the back, and the rest of us are in the middle—tired, cold, and blindly following our leader.

And I have to trust Declan knows what he's doing with just a flashlight and a satellite phone.

It's been uneventful for the most part, weaving our way down a slope that, while not the steepest, is still treacherous in darkness.

And Luca's tired. Or in pain. Or a combination of both.

"Declan?" I call softly from just behind him. "How much longer is it? I think Luca needs to sit down."

"I'm fine, Teagan," he says. "I don't want to sit down."

Declan halts, turning and looking his brother over with the flashlight. He's unsteady on his feet, all the color drained from his face. "It isn't much further," he says. He throws Luca's good arm over his shoulder and wraps his own around his waist. "Take the flashlight, Teagan. Walk next to me."

I take it and move to his side.

"We're less than a mile away now," he says. "He'll be okay."

"What's less than a mile away?" I ask. "A cabin?"

"A car," he says. "A friend of yours is picking us up."

"Of mine?"

"Teagan doesn't have any other friends," Luca says.

"Yeah. I don't."

"Just keep moving," he says.

Twenty minutes later, we reach a valley and meet two black Jeeps on an old one-lane dirt service road. I follow Luca and Declan to the first vehicle while Rhett, Brady, Hazel, and River get into the second.

Declan helps Luca into the back, and I slide in next to him. He leans against the window and closes his eyes, and I run my fingers through his hair.

"Are you okay, baby?" I ask.

"I'm aces," he says. "And you're the baby."

"You're my baby now," I tell him.

I look to the front as Declan climbs in, pulling the door closed behind him. And that's when I finally notice the driver, catching a glint of the gold mask in the rearview mirror.

One of my friends. Funny.

He must notice me staring because the mother fucker salutes me before starting the vehicle.

Is that…Bone Saw? Surely not.

"Hey there," I say. "How was the drive up?"

Of course, he doesn't answer.

"Don't try to talk to him, Teag," Declan says as we start down that old service road. "Just relax."

At least the Jeep has the time on the dash. I watch the minutes tick away in silent darkness. It was 1:37 AM when he started driving. It's 2:50 AM now as he pulls onto a paved two-lane highway. There are no houses, no intersections, no street signs. I can't tell which direction we're headed, but wherever it is, we're going there fast. The odometer puts us at just around 105 mph now as the mountains give way to open plains.

Luca snores softly against the window. I don't know if I could sleep even if I didn't just sleep all day.

I want to crawl into the front seat with Declan, but I don't want to catch Bone Saw or whoever it is by surprise and get knocked the fuck out.

"Declan?" Even though I call his name quietly, it's been silent for so long that it feels alarmingly loud. I lean forward and rest my head against his bicep. "Can I sit with you?"

"Yeah, come here, kitten."

I climb over the center console and into his lap, molding my body into his. I rest my head in that space just under his chin, facing the driver's side of the vehicle.

"You really are a good girl, Teagan," Declan says.

The masked man turns to us, cocks his head to the side, and points at me before making a stabbing motion with his hand.

I guess maybe it is him.

"Yeah, but look how sweet she is now," Declan tells him. "We're almost there, Teagan."

"Almost where?" I ask.

"Small airstrip—out of service," he says. "There's a plane waiting there."

"What happened?" I ask.

"They got a search warrant for the property in Idaho—quietly, we weren't expecting it. They brought cadaver dogs. It might take a minute to clean this up."

I slip my hand under his shirt, resting it over the bandage on his chest. "I love you, Declan," I tell him.

"I love you, too," he says, earning me another side-eye glare from Bone Saw.

I go back to watching the minutes tick away until I spot red and blue lights in my periphery. In the rearview mirror, a police car follows the second Jeep.

"Declan?"

"I see it," he says. "Get in the back and buckle your seatbelt; wake Luca up."

"Is it because we're speeding?" I ask.

But the driver pulls a high-powered rifle from under his seat, and Declan grabs a handgun from the glove box. I already know the answer.

"No, Teagan. There wouldn't be anyone out here looking for that."

"Luca?" I say shaking him, my panic palpable. "Wake up. There's a problem."

He sits up and looks at his brother. "Oh, shit."

"It's fine," Declan says. "We're almost there."

But gunshots ring out from the second vehicle. I glance back and see another masked man shooting from the sunroof of the other Jeep while Rhett drives.

"Get down, Teagan!" Luca shouts, pushing me flat on the bench seat and covering me with his body. I hear metal and glass crunching before the sirens stop, the lights no longer reflecting from the rearview.

"ETA?" Declan asks.

To my surprise, Bone Saw actually speaks, though his voice is muffled by the mask. "Three or four minutes."

"I'll tell them to start the engines," Declan says, fumbling with his satellite phone with the gun still in the other hand.

My heart thuds in my chest. Those three or four minutes feel like both a millisecond and an eternity. I'm afraid to stay in this car. I'm afraid to get out. But a sharp turn onto an old, barely graveled road tells me it's about time before the car halts, skidding to a stop with the second Jeep right behind it.

And more sirens in the distance.

"Declan…"

He quickly jumps out of the vehicle, then pulls my door open. "Get out and run," he says. I freeze—I don't mean to but I can't help it. I just stare back at him while the sirens get closer. I tell my legs to move, but they refuse. "Now, Teagan!" he yells. "For fuck's sake, get—"

But he doesn't finish his sentence before Luca pulls me out the other door. "Let's go, wifey."

I don't even get my bag, but I run, looking over my shoulder when I hear tires on the gravel.

Brady and Rhett are behind me, flanked by the other masked driver carrying a rifle.

We round the corner of an old hangar, and I see it—the small private jet waiting on the runway with its engines roaring. I barely hear shouting over speakers for all of us to stop. I don't hear the bullets before Brady hits the ground beside me. Bone Saw is already on the plane, firing at the police from the airliner's open door. And Luca and I are close…maybe about fifteen yards away before he hits his knees, clutching his stomach, and something levels me to the ground beside him.

"Luca!" I scream.

"It's going to be okay," Declan says from on top of me. "I love you, Teagan. I love you so much. I will never let you go, and you'll never be alone. Do you trust me?"

"Yes!" I shout over the gunfire.

"I need to help my brother now," he says. "I need you to be safe, so I need you to stay down, okay? Don't move."

"Okay."

He kisses me hard on the lips. "Close your eyes, sweetheart. Count to thirty."

I squeeze them closed, and once his body weight leaves me, through my sobs, I begin counting. "One…two…three…four…five…"

I hear Luca groan as gunfire rings out at close range. And I can't help it. I can't stop myself from opening my eyes and looking up.

And I do it just in time to see Declan dragging Luca onto the plane. Luca's eyes meet mine, and I feel momentary relief, knowing that, in this moment, at least, he's alive.

But he's shot. From the looks of it, more than once.

Whatever relief I feel vanishes when the second gun-wielding masked man jumps onto the aircraft and Bone Saw pulls the door shut behind him. Bullets pepper the side of the plane as it starts down the runway.

Oh my god…is he...

He's leaving me.

He fucking left me.

They fucking left me.

They said they would never.

I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't think. All I can do is feel pain. Overwhelming, all-consuming agony.

I'm dying.

I'm suffocating as I watch the plane lift off, lights blinking in the distance, leaving me behind, lying in the dirt like I'm nothing.

And then I feel a knee digging into my spine.

"Don't fucking move!" the police officer shouts before a handcuff closes around my right hand and he pulls it behind my back.

"Just kill me," I sob.

"What'd you say?"

"I said just kill me! Just fucking kill me!"

"Nah, I'm not going to kill you," the guy says. "But I could. And no one would care."

He stands, kicking me in the stomach twice. Coughing and choking, I pull my knees into my chest.

"Walk," he demands, pulling me to my feet with a tight grip around my arm.

I do what he asks, somehow forcing my legs to move beneath me, even though I can't think about anything except how much it hurts.

And I don't mean the steel-toed boot I took to the gut.

I mean the aching, bottomless pit at the core of my being. In the place where my heart used to be.

"These two are both dead," another officer says. I look over and see him kneeling beside Rhett and Brady's lifeless bodies, face down in the dirt.

A strangled sound somewhere between a scream and a sob escapes me.

"Yeah? Good fucking riddance," the officer holding me says.

And then I panic, scanning the area for River and Hazel. But I don't see anyone else in the field—no one aside from police officers.

I muster whatever strength I have left and scream. "River! Hazel!"

"Shut the fuck up!" the officer says before kneeing me in the stomach.

With the wind knocked out of me, I double over and gasp for air while saliva and snot drip from my face.

"Keep fucking moving!"

"Teagan!" someone screams from around the front of the old hangar.

"Hazel!"

"I said shut the fuck up!"

We round the corner to the front of the structure in time for me to get a glimpse of River's blonde hair before she's thrown into the back of a cop car.

I pass another car and see Hazel leaning against the window with tears streaming down her face. For a second, I think he's going to put me into the same car, but he doesn't. I'm read my rights and thrown into the back of a separate vehicle.

"Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"

"Yes," I say.

"With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?"

"I have nothing to say."

He slams the door in my face and leaves me there for about twenty minutes before he gets into the vehicle.

"What's your name?" he asks as we pull away.

"Teagan," I tell him. "Teagan Townsend."

"Where are you from, Teagan?"

"Mission Viejo, California," I tell him. "But I live in Fullerton near campus with my sister…or I did. Can I ask you something now?"

"Can't promise I'll answer," he says.

"Where are we?"

"Southern Wyoming."

"Why am I going to jail?" I ask. "I didn't do anything."

He laughs before answering. "Are you kidding me? There are about a million different things they could charge you with. Just depends on what you say and do next."

Numb, I lean against the window and cry for the rest of the drive.