Fuck.
They’d finally changed the code…and it had happened in the split moment between them leaving and me getting to the fucking door.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The car started up and I tried to bust through the door. My energy levels were severely depleted. I felt weak, my body barely able to move.
My body hurt where I’d hit the door hard. My head ached like I’d split it in half, the throbbing making me nauseous.
I needed my phone.
Everything swayed as I tried to move. My stomach emptied on the hall floor as I tried to close my eyes to get some equilibrium. Holding onto the walls, the hallway swayed like I was in a melting Salvador Dali painting.
One foot in front of the other.
Finally, I got to my door and moved inside, falling to my knees as I fell over our discarded clothing, until I got to my nightstand. Grabbing the phone, I tried to enter my code but I could barely see the keys. I slammed my fist against the nightstand out of frustration, the darkness creeping in.
No…I had to get help.
I had to get to her.
Slowly, I found the number I needed and dialled. Fury answered almost immediately.
“What’s up?”
“Hel- took…”
That’s when I felt my back hit the floor and everything went black.
Darby
Two days.
It had been two days we’d driven around Ireland, making sure we weren’t being followed by the Ghost Rebels. I didn’t know why nor did I care. He’d been so concerned with me being a captive, and yet now I washiscaptive.
From one prison to another.
I hadn’t felt captive with Rebel. It felt nice, comforting, warm.
I had anger burning in my gut, not fear, this time.
Rebel was constantly on my mind, my gut churning with the memory of how he clambered after me to save me even when he was clearly concussed.
He’d come after me. I knew he would, but if he hadn’t caught us by now, I wondered just how committed he’d been. Maybe I had worried him when I said I was home with him. Maybe he was backingaway because I said I would go with Riagan and he was hurt by that.
So many conflicting ideas in my mind were giving me a headache.
Riagan had been nice enough to tell me he’d dropped Bran’s kid off at an old family friend’s house in Cork before retrieving me, but I still had no idea why he came for me. It wasn’t like he was all about being a family and needed me back for that reason…or even to keep me safe.
I had to believe it was about something else.
And that filled me with dread the closer we got to Belfast.
“What?” he asked, looking over at me. At least he’d let me sit in the passenger seat now, but that only made it more difficult to hide my rising hatred of him.
“Why do you need me, Riagan?”
“I told yo-”
