“New beginnings.” His hopeful grin melts me. “Let’s go. And don’t make a sound, okay?”
“Promise.”
That pleases him. His hand squeezes mine as the duffel is hoisted over his shoulder, and we move toward the front door.
His house is eerily quiet as we cross it. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. My stomach dips with dread.
When I tug on his hand, his gaze slices to mine instantly. Yeah, he feels it too, dipping his chin in acknowledgment.
After grabbing the keys from the dining table, we’re ready.
Knox cracks the door open with me behind him. Hot, humid air blasts into the house. He takes one step forward. Two and?—
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Motherfucker.”
Before I can blink, we’re back inside. Door closed. Bag dropped.
“What?” I demand, my voice choked, panic lacing into it. “What?”
“The tires, they’re slashed.” His grip on my hands is iron-strong, nearly bone-crushing. “Jett…that son of a bitch. He must’ve done it earlier. Must’ve sensed we were close to a breaking point, to war, and he wanted us trapped in Colbert.”
“We could walk.” Instead of sinking into despair, my brain takes a hard turn, going into problem-solving mode. “We’d be quiet. I won’t complain either, I swear. Once we get to the nearest town and rent a car, we’ll be free.”
“No. And we can’t take the duffel on the bike either. Too big. The truck’s our only way out of here without killing them.” He pulls his lips in. The vein in his temple throbs. “Papa won’t catch the truck, but if we start on foot, once he realizes we’re gone, he’ll be on us in no time.”
“He won’t.” I yank on his shirt, urgency seeping into my movements. They’re jerky. Hysterical. “Hewon’t.”
He pries my hand off him, kissing my knuckles, then stalks off. “Wait here.”
“No,” I’m still whispering as I chase him. My gait is no match for his long one, but I try. “Talk to me.”
Before he opens the door, he spins on his heel, facing me.
His hand snaps around my arm, shocking me into silence. “There are spare tires in the farmhouse. For when the living-hides break free and slash ours.”
Images surge to the forefront of my mind. Innocent people thinking they made it out of here, only to die.
I push them out of my mind, fast.
That wasn’t Knox. He never wanted it. Any of it.
“So what do we do?” I ask him.
“Me.” He slams a hand over his chest. “I’m gonna go to the farmhouse and get the tires.”
“Alone?” My eyebrows shoot up. “Like hell.”
“Skylar…”
“You’d really leave me here by myself? To be at someone else’s mercy in case something happened to you?” That doesn’t bother me at all. My only concern is that he’ll be outnumbered. But if I told him I wanted to help, he’d shut me out. “Did you think about that? Did you?”
“Jesus, woman.” The primitive man within him is now on full display. Hot, infuriating, and lethal. “Fine. I’ll arm you. A small knife, easier to handle. And I’ll get the chainsaw for me. I’d been practicing with it, chopping wood. Never liked it, though. Never needed access to the chainsaw’s power until now. If they figure out Jett’s dead, they’ll turn much more violent. I might not be able to take them down with my bare hands.”
“Fine.”
His eyebrow arches. “Anything else on your mind, Trouble?”
“Matter of fact, yes.” My curiosity couldn’t have come at a worse time, but I can’t shut up. “That chainsaw. Why did you get it if you didn’t like it to begin with?”
