Page 115 of The Villain

The car careened around the first curve, the tires protesting with a squeal, and I swore violently.

Suddenly, the car lurched as she pressed on the brakes. It was only for a second. A second that brought me much closer. A second that I saw her gaze in the rearview. A second for me to recognize the look in her eyes—it was the same one she’d had that night under the stars.

Trust me.

Trust her for—fuck!

I let off the gas as she swerved wildly toward the center of the two-lane road.Jesus Christ.The car practically drifted around the upcoming sharp turn, disappearing from my sight for an instant. I floored the gas, racing around the hard left to catch up, and as soon as the car came back into sight, all I saw was red.

A red brake light and the smoke of burning rubber.

The car careened for the rock wall on the left, tires squealing to stop in time, and I was headed right toward them.

“Fuck!”I shouted, and instinct took over. If I tried to brakeand avoid a crash, I’d end up over the handlebars. The only thing I could do was evacuate.

I launched myself from my seat, pulling my arms close as I dove off my bike. Of course, it was my injured side that took the impact first. I shouted, pain slicing through my shoulder as it connected with the asphalt. The impact tore through the fabric of my skirt and then through my skin. I heard a crack and knew something had broken.

But none of that mattered.I had to get to Athena.

Rocks ate through my palms as I stopped myself from rolling. Only my right arm worked to push me onto my knees.I turned just as the car veered to the right, trying to turn away from the wall. The back corner slammed into the rocks, sending the whole thing lurching.

And then came my bike. Metal and sparks sprayed down the pavement as it skidded toward the vehicle.

I saw Wenner in the passenger window. He shouted and then looked out at the bike sliding toward him—and then at me. There was only pure fear in his eyes.

He knew I wasn’t going to let him survive this.

I started to stand just as my motorcycle crashed into the back right tire of the car with impressive speed.

And then all I saw and heard and felt was the boom.

Everything was ringing. Spinning. Hot smoke filled my first deep breath and oxygenated my body with pure panic.

“Athena!” I shouted and sat up.

Everything hurt. Everything burned.

My bike was obliterated. The car was in deconstructed pieces strewn over the road.

A bomb.

My bike had been a bomb…and she’d forced me from it to save me.

My heart strained to beat. Its lumbering thuds were the only thing I could hear over the ringing in my ears from the blast.

I pushed myself upright. The world tilted with every step, threatening to open up and swallow me whole, but still I kept moving—stumbling to the wreckage.

This was why she’d kept her distance—to keep me out of range of the detonator.

My lungs worked not in breaths but only to inhale strength and shout her name. I needed her alive. I needed her to survive.

Half of the car was completely gone. Mostly the back and stretching to the passenger side where my bike had hit it. Small fires oozed destruction from various parts of the remaining frame, burning my nostrils with smoke.

She had to be alive.

I reached the car.In the passenger seat was Wenner. Still recognizable but definitely dead. In his hands were a gun and the half-melted remains of a detonator.

And in the driver’s seat was Athena, slumped forward over the airbag, her arm limp like she’d tried to shield herself from the blast.

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