I study the way his brown hair, which is much longer on top, flops to the side. He has beautiful hazel eyes that seem to study me back. He has a close-cropped beard that only accentuates his chiseled jaw. There are small scars scattered all over his face, and I reach up to trace one with my finger. He gently grabs my hand, stopping my perusal.
“Do they hurt?” I ask, eyeing all the marks covering his face.
“No, but you don’t have to touch them. I know they’re gross.”
I shake my head slowly as I pull my hand from his and reach up to touch another one. “Not gross. They’re part of you, which makes them amazing. They tell me a story of what you’ve been through.”
“Not to break up this tender moment, but do we want to figure out where we’re going now?”
I move to sit up, and Dex helps me, but keeps me seated in his lap, his thick arm banding around my center. My eyes follow it up to his shoulder, realizing just how built he is.
Turning back, I see Pete behind the wheel, and Sly sitting beside him, staring back at me as if he’s trying to reach into my mind and read my thoughts.
“Guys?” Pete asks again, turning his head to give me his side profile. I suddenly get a flash of a memory of him slitting one of the bikers' throats and laughing when they grabbed their neck and dropped to the ground. Memories of Tony and the bar flash through my mind, and I take a few deep breaths, trying to stay calm as reality sets in.
“Wren?” Sly asks when he sees me start to freak out.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?” I lick my lips nervously.
“No, little bird. This is real.”
“But… how are you all here?” I glance back up at Dex in confusion.
“We escaped.”
“Oh. Ohhh!” My eyes widen in shock.
“Don’t be scared, we’d never hurt you,” Sly says, reaching back to give my knee a squeeze of reassurance.
I grab his hand and shake my head. “I’m not scared of you. I’m scaredforyou. Won’t they be looking for you?”
“Looks like we’ll be on the run together then,” Pete says, throwing a smile over his shoulder.
On the run…together?I’ve felt alone all of my life. Sure, Ihad my brother, but he acted like a parental figure. I could never talk to him about anything that actually mattered to me. Frowning, I wonder why I’ve never realized that before. Why was I trying so desperately to be the perfect sister and make his life easier when he had no clue how I really felt about anything?
Ever since I ran, I’ve been terrified of him finding me or him handing me over to Ivan and shipping me off to Russia. He had treated me like my opinion never mattered. I had hoped I’d be able to make it on my own out here, but tonight has taught me that there are apparently a lot of things about this world that I’ve been sheltered from.
I never imagined I’d have anyone to help guide me through it, let alone my four favorite people in the entire world. I take a second to look at them, realizing I haven’t seen Jagger yet. Remembering Dex looking at someone beside us, I twist my body around and gasp as my eyes meet a pair of beautiful blue ones, staring at me with such intensity I feel it all the way to my soul.
The second I see him, my pulse stutters. Not because he’s handsome, though he is, but because something about him feels like gravity. Heavy. Inevitable. Like I am being pulled in before I can think to resist.
“Jagger?”
He nods his head, and a strange sort of laugh-cry erupts from me. I reach over and cup his face. He holds my palm against his cheek, pressing into my touch as he continues to watch me silently.
His short brown hair is a little darker than Dex’s, and he’s sporting a five o’clock shadow that suits his intense appearance. He has broad shoulders, although not as wide as Dex's,and a jaw cut from stone. He’s built like restraint and violence stitched together.
There’s something behind his blue eyes, quiet and sharp, as if they miss nothing. They pin me where I sit, calm but burning. My stomach flutters with the kind of nerves that don't feel entirely unpleasant. There’s something familiar about him, too. And I think it’s because I already feel like I know him so well, like my soul recognizes his.
“It’s really you,” I whisper, and he gives me the barest hint of a smile. Dex releases me as I wiggle out of his lap and kneel on the seat between them, facing Jagger as I take in his whole appearance. Muscles that stretch his T-shirt to its limits and a penetrating gaze, still staring right into my soul.
Of the four of them, we know each other best. He had a way of writing that revealed the depth of his soul, forcing me to reply in kind. I care for all of them equally, but I feel most connected to Jagger.
“I can’t believe you’re all here, that you came for me,” I whisper. Reaching toward me, he grips my hips and pulls me into his lap so I’m straddling him. Then he grabs his seatbelt and secures it around us both.
He remains silent, and I find myself desperate to hear his voice. “Jagger, say something,” I whisper, and a look of pain crosses his face. He shakes his head and points to a long scar I hadn’t noticed running down his neck.
Frowning, I trace it with my finger. “I don’t understand.”
