Page 113 of Elusion

Another blow from the horn.

Fuck.

“I think that’s why Callie lost her shit when she was younger.”

His head lowers at the mention of her name, and his gaze shifts to the bench seat between us. “What do you mean?”

“She couldn’t control Graham and Lauren, but she could control what she did. The drinking and the partying were like a giantfuck youanytime they made her mad. Except she ended up giving them even more control. Because she let them control her emotions, her reactions. And now you’re doing the exact same thing.”

Tears streak down his face again, but he won’t look at me. I need him to look at me.

“Think about it, Con. Right now, Graham has more control over you than ever. You’re in his truck, upset over what he did, and willing to give up your life to get away from him. But he’s not worth it.”

I check out my window. The vibrations in the seat match the rumble of the train barreling toward us. Lights on the railroad crossing sign blink. Ringing fills the cab of the truck.

We’re out of time.

“Don’t let him control you anymore, Connor,” I shout over the crossing. “Don’t let him decide this for you. Say,Fuck you. Say it, and we’ll go find something beautiful that makes all the shit worthwhile because it’s out there, and we’ll find it. I promise.”

His eyes snap to mine, and I have no idea what I said, but he’s right here with me now.

“Promise?”

Eyes blurring and heart hammering, I nod. “Promise.”

Then he nods back, slow at first but becoming more certain until he grabs for the handle. The piercing horn drowns out my command to go as I chase him through the cab and shove him out the door. My feet land on the tracks, ready to run, but Connor loses his balance. I clutch at his shirt, dragging him over the rails. We only run a few seconds before a deafening boom shoots shockwaves through me. I throw us both to the ground.

The collision reverberates through the empty fields around us. Metal shrieks and crunches and scrapes. The shrill noises shred at my insides. I feel them grating everywhere, gnawing at my nerve endings and preventing all rational thought.

Then it stops. Chimes of the crossing and brakes of the train are all that remain.

Neither of us attempts to move. It never even occurs to me. We lie flat on the rocks, on our stomachs, in the dark, under the stars, alive and breathing. Sporadic, ragged, and shallow. But breathing.

When my body responds again, I push myself up and pull Connor to his feet. He stumbles on his first steps, so I help him to the Jeep, not so much as glancing behind us. He sits sideways in the passenger seat, and I frantically check him over. Small scratches on his cheek and chin, eyes puffy, skin pale, but he’s in one fucking piece.

His lip trembles before his entire body starts shaking. He gasps for air, panic flooding his eyes.

“You’re safe,” I say, grabbing on to him. “I promise.”

He clings to me, anchoring on like he has nothing else to hold him here. I’ve never felt so utterly responsible for another person in my entire life, and why he always comes first suddenly makes complete sense. He just does.

After he calms down enough to let go, I head around the back of the vehicle. My eyes refuse to stray from my feet, but I stop before getting in and force them up. A trail of wreckage leads from the crossing to the remains of Graham’s truck, overturned in the ditch about a hundred feet down the tracks. The truck bed is partially ripped away from the force of impact. Separate sides of the cab no longer exist, passenger side smashed all the way through to the driver’s door.

A cold weakness shoots through my muscles, and I have to brace against the side of the vehicle. Fear and adrenaline wreak havoc as the truth of what almost happened slashes through me. Hot tears burn with each breath more strenuous than the last. Most of tonight, I already wanted to forget, to purge all the unwelcome memories. But erasing this moment, the one when I realize how close we came to not escaping the truck, is fucking crucial to my well-being.

A sense of stability returns, and my muscles loosen enough so that I can straighten up. I wipe my eyes and climb in, and without another look, we leave the nightmare behind.

We ride through town to Graham’s house in silence. Personally, I need the quiet reflection time after a night of one chaotic event after another. When we pull up, Tony is waiting next to Pete’s truck. A little hesitant to leave the joyrider alone with my keys, I take them and tell Connor to stay put.

Tony stretches out his arms and lets them drop to his sides. “Where the hell have you guys been?”

I explain our little detour and the destruction of a technically stolen truck. He almost appears jealous of missing the action and graciously offers to call Trey about the situation. I let him. I need a longer break.

As Tony handles that business, I fetch a few blankets from Callie’s room and a sweatshirt for Connor. He leans against the front of the vehicle and reaches out when I bring them over. Before I forget, I toss Pete’s truck keys on the seat. I calculate the odds of two people stealing his truck in one night as low. The guy can’t have that bad of luck.

Tony tucks his phone away. “Trey said he’ll take care of everything. Whatever that means.”

“Did he say anything else?” Connor asks.

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