Page 132 of Forsaken Oath

I’ve never uttered such a deplorable thing before, but I’m existing on fear and adrenaline right now. It’s a lethal combination.

The other driver stares at me wide-eyed, blood still trickling down his face. He nods jerkily. “Y-yeah, okay. I’ll help.”

I press my face to the window again, my heart in my throat. “Beau? Can you hear me?”

Still no response. Fear claws at my insides, threatening to drag me under. But I can’t fall apart, not now. Beau needs me.

Smoke curls from underneath the hood, the scent of something burning stinging my senses.

“Hurry,” I urge, my voice strained with desperation.

The driver braces his hands on the frame and heaves upward with all his strength, trying to force the warped metal open. Hismuscles strain and sweat beads on his brow as he grunts with exertion. I join him, gripping the jagged edges of the door until they dig painfully into my palms.

Together, with a scream of protesting metal, we manage to pry the driver’s side door open just a crack. It’s not much, but it’s enough. I wedge my fingers into the gap and yank, heedless of the way the sharp edges slice into my skin. Blood wells from the cuts, but I barely feel the sting. All that matters is getting to Beau.

With a final heave and a guttural cry, I wrench the door open wide enough to reach inside. “Beau,” I gasp, my hands shaking as I fumble with his seatbelt. “Beau, please wake up. Please be okay.”

His head lolls to the side, a gnarly wound on his forehead.

“Oh, god,” I sob. Leaning over my shoulder, I shout, “Help me get him out!”

As we drag Beau's limp form from the wreckage, a flicker of orange light catches my eye. My head snaps up, and horror slams into me like a physical blow. Tongues of flame lick out from beneath the crumpled hood of the Hellcat, small at first but growing rapidly as they find fuel.

“Fire,” I rasp, my throat raw from smoke and screaming. “We have to move.Now!”

The other driver’s eyes widen as he spots the flames, his face paling beneath the blood and grime. Together, we heave him from the wreckage of the Hellcat just as the metal groans and creaks ominously, the front end still precariously perched over the edge of the bluff. My heart hammers against my ribs as we haul him onto solid ground, closer to my car and away from the fiery twisted metal and shattered glass.

The other driver helps me lower Beau gently onto the gravel, his head cradled in my lap. Moonlight spills over his face, illuminating the unnatural pallor of his skin. His lashes are stillagainst his cheeks, his lips slightly parted, but his chest isn’t rising fast enough.

“Call for help,” I bark over my shoulder.

“There’s no service in the park,” the driver mutters.

“Then call the goddamn Gauntlet people! Dosomething.Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’ll . . .” he trails off, walking back to his car.

“Goddamn you, Beau.” My voice cracks as I clutch him to me. “You made me fall in love with you.” I stroke his hair back from his brow with shaking fingers.

“You’re not allowed to leave me,” I whisper again, the words trembling as they leave my lips. My tears drip onto his face, leaving glistening trails on his skin.

My breath hitches as I press my forehead to his. “Don’t leave me, Beau,” I plead, the words tumbling out of me in a choked sob.

His body is heavy, limp in my arms, and I shake him gently. “I love you, do you hear me?” I cry, the admission spilling from my lips like a dam breaking, every ounce of fear and desperation behind it. “I love you,” I whisper.

But there’s no response, no flicker of his eyelids or twitch of his hand. Nothing.

The silence around us is deafening, broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and the crackle of the burning wreckage behind me. The void where his voice should be feels unbearable. I clutch him tighter, the panic clawing up my throat until it feels like I’m choking on it.

“Please,” I whisper, rocking him slightly. My tears fall harder now, splashing onto his shirt, soaking into the fabric as if my sorrow could seep into him and bring him back to me. “Please don’t leave me.”

My sobs shake my entire body, and I let them. I’ve spent my life bottling up every emotion, every fear, every ounce of pain. But now, holding the man I love in my arms, it all comes pouring out in a torrent I can’t control.

“I’m so sorry,” I choke out. “For breaking your heart, for walking away, for not telling you sooner. I’m sorry for every moment we lost, every second I wasted pretending I didn’t need you.” My voice cracks on the last word, and I bury my face against his neck, inhaling the faint scent of him beneath the smoke and oil. “I need you, Beau. Please don’t leave me.”

I press trembling kisses to his temple, his forehead, his jaw. “I love you,” I whisper between each one, the words an incantation, a prayer, a plea. “I love you. I love you.”

Still, there’s no response. His chest rises slowly, pausing before it falls.

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