I scoot down in the seat as far as I can, the engines roaring around me and the headlights illuminating the darkness. There are at least two trucks pulling in. There could be more. That was just all I saw before ducking for cover, my heart beating out of my chest.
Where are you, Noah? Are they here for him?
Bullet lets out a low growl from the backseat.
“It’s okay,” I immediately whisper, desperate to keep him quiet. “Shh.”
I twist my body just enough to peer back at my dog, meeting his little alert eyes. He tilts his head at me and then lets out a lowwhoof.
“No,” I chide him, my body pulsing with panic. “Youhaveto be quiet.”
Whoof.
“Stop,” I argue with my dog, as if he can even understand.
The engine noise cuts out suddenly, the headlights following. And suddenly, we’re left in the dark silence.
They’re going to see us.
“Who the fuck’s car is that?” I hear someone say, followed by the slamming of a truck door.
I tense, my eyes flicking to the locked position of the door. It brings very little relief. My mind replays the night of baseball bats and shredded tires when they came for Matthew.
And I swallow hard. Maybe I should just drive away.
But Noah. I can’t leave him here.
I shut my eyes as the muffled conversation continues. I can’t hear anything that’s being said, but I can hear four more doors slam.
So, does that mean there are four more guys?
The math doesn’t make me feel any better at all.
And neither does the sound of boots crunching within a few feet of the door.
Bullet lets out another growl, this time ten times as loud as before.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I squeeze my eyes shut as the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. My body is still angled to the back, and I’m frozen in place, unable to turn and see if anyone is peering in through the windows.
Just breathe, Rue.But I can’t steady my heart to even hear the boots or the voices anymore. It’s only the heavy pounding of my heart, consuming me.
Oh my God. What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing?
Why did I let him bring me here? These people hate me.
My mind threatens to take me back to the past, but I hold onto the present to the best of my ability, my fingers digging into the console so hard that pain shoots up my fingers.
And that’s when there’s a knock on the window.
Someone jiggles the passenger handle.
This is it. This is it.
“Rue, open the goddamned door,” a voice sends me startling back up, and I smash the unlock button.
“Holy shit,” I breathe out, and turn just in time to see Noah sliding into the passenger seat, rather than the backseat this time. “You’re back.”
