Page 76 of Imprisoned

“Have I ever lied to you?” His fingers trail down my neck. “They know the deal. They get over the border to help, and then we part ways. Simple.”

Relief floods through me. “Okay.” I lean into his touch. “I just... I want a fresh start. Just us.”

“And that’s exactly what you’ll get.” He kisses me hard, brief but possessive. “Now, let’s get moving before those sirens get any closer and all of us get caught.”

I slide into the passenger seat, my heart thundering against my ribs. The leather feels cool against my sweaty palms as I grip the door handle. Axel takes the driver’s seat with fluid grace as if we’re just heading out for a casual drive rather than fleeing from a maximum-security prison.

Rico and Tommy pile into the back. The car dips under our weight, and I notice Rico’s reflection in the side mirror—his eyes dart constantly, scanning the vicinity.

The key turns in the ignition, and the engine purrs to life. Before shifting into drive, Axel’s hand finds mine on the center console. Our fingers intertwine, and suddenly, I can breathe again. The touch grounds me and reminds me why I’m here, why I’ve thrown away my career and life for this man.

They say psychopaths can’t form real connections. That everything they do is calculated manipulation. But the way Axel’s thumb traces circles on my palm feels genuine. The slight squeeze he gives my hand when a helicopter searchlight sweeps through the trees in the distance—that’s not manipulation. That’s protection, possession, and maybe even love.

I glance at his profile as he navigates the dark forest road. His jaw is set, his eyes focused, but there’s a softness in how he holds my hand. It’s as if I’m his anchor in the storm of his mind—maybe I am.

The sirens fade behind us as Axel guides the SUV deeper into the night. Despite everything—the risk, the uncertainty, the two wildcards in our backseat—I know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. My training screams that this is insane, that I’m just another victim falling for a charming psychopath. But my heart knows better. This connection between us, twisted as it may be, is real.

34

AXEL

The flashing red and blue lights pierce through the darkness ahead. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel as I spot the line of patrol cars blocking the road.

“Fuck,” Rico curses. “They’ve set up roadblocks already?”

I glance at Willow beside me. Her face is pale in the dashboard light, but her eyes meet mine with unwavering trust. That look sends a surge of something unfamiliar through my chest.

“Everyone stay calm.” I ease off the gas, scanning the tree line. The cruisers are about half a mile ahead, giving us options. “Tommy, you still got that map?”

“Yeah, boss.” Paper rustles behind me.

Years of planning escape routes in prison have trained my mind for moments like this. I spot a logging trail cutting through the woods to our right—barely visible, but it’s there.

“Hold on.” I wrench the wheel hard, cutting the headlights as we veer onto the dirt path. Branches scrape against the sides of the car. Willow grabs the dashboard but doesn’t make a sound.

The rough trail threatens to break the car apart, but I know these backwoods routes. They were part of my contingencyplanning, memorized from maps I had Tommy smuggle in. The police would expect us to panic, to try outrunning them on the main roads. They don’t expect calculated moves.

“There’s an old fire road that connects back to Route 16,” I say, navigating around a fallen log. “They won’t have time to reposition their blockade before we’re past it.”

The chatter that usually fills my head, screaming for violence, is silent, replaced by crystal-clear focus. I do this best by staying three steps ahead and turning chaos into opportunity.

Willow’s hand finds mine on the gearshift. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“When it comes to keeping you safe?” I squeeze her fingers. “Always.”

The car bounces through a shallow creek and then starts climbing. I can see the distant lights of the roadblock behind us growing fainter through the trees. They have no idea we’ve already slipped past their net.

The logging trail opens onto a wider dirt road when Rico clears his throat. “Sorry, boss, but Marcus’s crew is offering double what you promised for turning you in.”

My muscles tense as I process his words. The quiet voices suddenly roar to life, demanding blood. Through the rearview mirror, I catch Rico pulling out a phone.

“Already made the call. They’re waiting up ahead.”

Without hesitation, I slam on the brakes and spin the wheel. Rico lunges forward, grabbing for my throat. The car fishtails on the loose dirt as I elbow him hard in the face. Blood sprays across the backseat.

“Tommy, get that phone!” I shout, wrestling with the wheel as Rico’s weight throws us off balance.

The car careens through the trees, branches snapping against the windshield. Willow screams as Rico’s hands lock around my neck from behind. My vision starts to blur.

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