Carrie’s lips tremble. “We did it.”
The alarms fade behind us as we rocket into the night.
24
CARRIE
For one shining second, all I feel is pure relief—I got them out. They’re alive, breathing, packed in beside me, hearts pounding as the prison fades in the rearview. The plan worked. They trusted me, and for once, I didn’t let anyone down.
But the freedom doesn’t last long. My hands ache from gripping the wheel. I force myself to focus on the road ahead, every sense stretched thin. The night is black, the highway empty, the only sound the engine rattling as we speed away. I’m sure I can taste adrenaline. My mind is already racing:Where’s the next turnoff? How long do we have before someone finds the van?
The road blurs. The rearview mirror is empty, but I keep checking it, sure that any second blue lights will explode behind us. My hands are shaking so bad I almost can’t keep the van straight. My breath comes in quick, tight gasps. I taste copper and panic at the back of my throat.
Then, out of nowhere, my stomach twists. Heat floods my face, sweat beads at my temples. The urge to throw up slams into me so hard I nearly lose control. The van swerves, tiresscreeching on gravel. Jace curses and grabs the wheel, steadying us. “Carrie! Pull over!”
I nod, swallowing hard, vision tunneling. “I—I can’t—” I let go of the wheel and scramble to scoot over, fighting the seat belt, desperate for air.
Jace slides into the driver’s seat without hesitation, hands strong on the wheel, guiding the van to the shoulder. He throws it in park just as I push open the window and lean out, vomiting into the cold night air. My throat burns. I gasp, tears stinging my eyes, the world spinning around me. The wind slaps my face, but I barely notice.
Behind me, I hear Levi’s voice, rough and anxious. “Carrie, you okay?”
I wipe my mouth, heart pounding, shame and relief tangling in my chest. “I’m fine,” I manage, though I know I’m lying. I’m not fine. I’m terrified and sick and shaking so hard I can barely think.
Jace leans across, voice gentle but firm. “You’re obviously not okay. And we can’t stay here long. We need a new plan—someone’s gonna spot this truck.”
He’s right. I can see the tension in all of them—muddy, bloody, every one of us just barely hanging on. We’re only a few miles from the prison, and the engine is ticking like it’s about to give out. My mind races, trying to remember everything I planned, every backup route, every hiding place I mapped out for us.
“We need to ditch the van,” I say, my voice shaky. “Right now. I’ve got cash in my bag. There’s a gas station up ahead. We can make it on foot.”
For a second, I just sit there, breathing hard, fighting to get my stomach under control. My pulse pounds in my ears. The guys are watching me—Jace, Nico, Levi—waiting for me to leadagain. But for a moment, I just let myself be scared. Let myself feel how close we all came to losing everything.
Then I wipe my face, force a steady breath, and climb out. “Come on,” I say, voice steadier than I feel. “Let’s move.”
The highway disappears behind us as we cut into the woods, ducking branches, our shoes crunching leaves and snapping twigs. The only light is the faint silver of the moon on frost.
We move quietly, every one of us listening for sirens or distant shouts. The adrenaline has faded, leaving only exhaustion and aches behind. My breath fogs in the cold air. My hands are numb, but I push forward, focusing on the faint sound of water up ahead.
We reach a shallow stream winding through the trees, the water bright and cold as glass. Levi kneels first, splashing his face, scooping water in his hands. Nico slumps onto a log, head down, chest still heaving. Jace crouches at the bank, rubbing his shoulder, then glances at me.
He waits until I kneel, cupping water and sipping. It’s ice-cold and tastes like freedom. Only then does he break the silence.
“Why’d you do it, Carrie?” Jace’s voice is quiet, stripped down. “Why did you change the plan?”
I look at him, the cold water slipping through my fingers, and feel my pulse hammer in my throat. I could say it was panic. I could say I just wanted to see the plan through. But the real answer lives somewhere deeper—a secret I’m not ready to give voice to, not out loud.
I love them. All three. It isn’t about the baby growing inside me, or the secrets we’ve shared, or even the way my body aches for theirs. It’s more than that. It’s the way I breathe easier when they’re near. The way I can’t stand the thought of losing them. I would rather risk everything than watch them disappear behind bars again.
But I keep all of that inside. Instead, I meet Jace’s eyes and let him see the part of me that’s not afraid.
“I couldn’t let you get caught,” I say, my voice rough but steady. “Not after everything we’ve been through. I had to do something. I couldn’t stand waiting, not knowing.”
He studies me for a long moment, something softening in his gaze. He nods, not asking for anything more.
I stare down at the water cupped in my hands, watching it slip through my fingers and ripple back into the stream. My reflection is broken, shaky. In the space of a single night, everything I had—my job, the slim safety of a paycheck, any hope of a quiet future—has vanished. I’m wanted now, same as them. No home, no backup plan, nothing but whatever cash I managed to stuff into my bag before I left.
I should feel panic, or regret, or grief for everything I lost. But I don’t. Not really. Not here, not with them.
Because even with mud on my jeans, my skin raw from cold, and the weight of the world pressing in from every side, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Not in a warm apartment, not behind some safe desk, not with anyone else in the world.
