Another flutter inside my belly, sharper this time. Is she reacting to my pulse?
I need to calm down. I close my eyes and breathe slowly.
A second crunch. Closer.
My eyes snap open.
This time it’s unmistakable. Not wind. Not imagination. Something moving.
I whip my head toward the brush line, searching for a shadow, an animal—anything.
I pull my scarf tighter as I look out the right side of the car.
But then, a single, gentle knock taps the glass beside my left ear.
My entire body jolts. I slap my hand over my mouth to stop the gasp as I spin violently to see what’s there.
A man stands at my window.
For a beat, I can’t move. Can’t even breathe.
He’s smiling, but the curve of his lips is vacant and wrong.
I don’t return it because I can’t. I’m frozen. Thank God I already locked the doors and windows.
A flicker of instinct tells me to reach for my gun, but he’s too close to fire…
And then, my gaze drops to a dark shape in his hand.
Before my mind can fully register it, he moves. His arm swings up…and then…shatter.
The driver’s window explodes inward. Glass sprays across my lap. Something slams into my shoulder. Cold air tears into the cabin with him, his smile gone and replaced by something feral and electric.
And the world goes white with terror.
35
Gravel spits out behind us,the truck fishtailing for half a second before the tires catch and we surge onto the main road. My foot is welded to the accelerator. The needle climbs, the engine strains, and the road unspools beneath us in a blur of asphalt and winter glare as I tear off toward the road leading into Echo Valley, where the speed trap is.
Freya’s face flashes behind my eyes—sleepy, determined this morning, her hand drifting unconsciously to her belly.
Our baby.
Our future.
Everything I never thought I’d ever getin this lifetime.
The thought hits like a punch. My lungs are tight; each time they move, it’s steel grinding steel.
I just need to see her safe.
My thoughts start to scatter, panic clawing at the edges—I shouldn’t have let her be alone. Not even with Ingram gone.
I mutter tightly, the words scraping out before I can stop them. “Should never have let her drive out.”
Rio snaps his head toward me. “Hermano.” His voice carries an empathy unusual for him. “He signed off for a vacation,” he attempts to reassure me. “Freya told you herself. And we don’t know he told Mace anything yet. She could be out there perfectly fine.”
It lands like a lifeline thrown straight at my chest. I cling to it because I have to.
