Air rushes from my lungs in a single gust. My thumb finds the mute button, pressing hard enough to leave a smudge.
“Almost there,” Gage calls from the cab.
Almost.
Something bubbles up my throat—a sound like broken glass, high and jagged—echoing off the metal walls before I can trap it behind my teeth.
Cruz's eyebrows shoot up, his head tilting to the left. “What?”
“I—” The words evaporate. My feet move before my brain catches up. My fingers find the worn cotton of his hoodie, bunching the fabric as I pull him to his feet and collide with his chest. His arms lock around my waist, lifting until my toes barely brush the ground. The truck vibrates through us as he spins, my hair catching in the stubble along his jaw.
“Fuck. We’re almost there,” I whisper, my lips brushing the pulse point at his neck.
“I can’t believe you doubted us.” His breath warms my ear, and his fingers press into the small of my back, steady and sure.
My heartbeat slows to match the rhythm of the road. The desert stretches out before us, endless and unforgiving. Cruz's eyes catch mine, green flecks dancing in the brown.
The world fractures into crystal-sharp clarity. Every heartbeat stretches into infinity.
And then the floor rips away beneath us, metal shrieking as it bends and tears.
My stomach slams into my throat. Cruz's fingers dig into my arm hard enough to bruise as we're wrenched sideways.
And then we're tumbling through chaos, a hurricane of glass and metal and blood-curdling screams I don't recognize as my own.
48
CRUZ
My eyelids feellike they're glued shut with cement. I pry them open, copper-scented warmth trickling into my mouth. Blood. My head throbs with each heartbeat, ears screaming like I'm standing next to a jet engine. Every breath sends daggers through my ribs.
I force my neck muscles to work, lifting my head an inch. Blink. Blink. Blink. The world tilts into focus.
Green duffel bags. Black metal cases. Shit scattered everywhere like confetti.
“Fuck,” the word scrapes out of my throat.
The armored truck lies on its side, the interior a tornado aftermath. Casino chips in red, blue, and black spill from cracked plastic bins, rolling across metal flooring that should be beneath me, not beside me.
I push against the floor, trying to get my legs under me. My right thigh catches fire. A scream rips through my clenched teeth as I collapse back down. A jagged triangle of metal—it looks like part of the door frame—juts from my flesh, the fabric of my jeans darkening around it. Blood pulses out with each heartbeat.
“Oh, fuck me.” My fingers hover an inch above the metal, trembling like I've been awake for days. Leave it in. That's what they always say. Pulling it means bleeding out.
“Gage?” My voice cracks as I twist toward the driver's seat. The cab's crushed inward on his side. Just silence and shadows where my brother should be.
My chest tightens, lungs refusing to fill. Sweat breaks cold across my forehead as red and blue lights flash behind my eyes. Cops. Prison. Twenty-five to life. I force three deep breaths, blinking away the spots.
My gaze darts around the wreckage, searching for that flash of honey blonde I've gotten used to seeing beside me. No Bellamy. Just twisted metal and scattered cash.
I drag myself toward the gaping rear doors, the metal frame bent outward like something exploded from inside. Each inch costs me a gasp, blood leaving a snail's trail behind me.
We're close to the city limits, probably near Riverside. Any second now, someone's gonna drive by and see a fucking armored truck tipped on its side.
Blonde hair splayed across metal, darkening crimson at the roots. One arm bent backward. Not moving. “Bellamy!” Her name tears from my throat, raw and ragged.
I clamp my fingers around the twisted metal shelf, knuckles bleaching white. My good leg trembles as I haul myself upright. The shard in my thigh shifts, sending lightning up my spine. Black spots dance. Copper floods my mouth—bit through my lip. Blood drips into my left eye, blinding me. I swipe it away, leaving my face slick and sticky.
The overturned gun safe blocks the path between us, four hundred pounds of steel I need to get around somehow.
