Page 81 of Emmy's Ride

A high-speed chase through the dark Mexican countryside on a bike wasn’t the best thing for Emmy. She was in shock. But I had one mission—get her the hell out of here.

And once she was safe…

I would come back for The Ghost. I was going to end this.

Emmy

The world was quiet. Too quiet.

No more taunting voices over hidden speakers. No more cold, calculated commands. No more cameras watching my every move. I even had on clothes. Not my own but a worn pair of pants and a shirt, both a few sizes too big. But I still felt exposed.

The reality versus illusion continued to mess with my head. How did I get here? Austin. That’s right. We rode the motorcycle until I thought I was going to fall asleep and end up as roadkill.And then we turned onto an overgrown road and pulled up to what looked appeared to be an abandoned shack.

I didn’t care what it looked like as long as we were safe.

I sat curled up on the edge of a bed, staring at the blank wall in front of me. The sheets were soft beneath me, the air smelled clean—like cedar and something faintly familiar. Safety.

Austin.

I wanted to trust that feeling of safe here, but my body didn’t believe it yet. My skin still burned from phantom touches that weren’t real but felt too close. My mind replayed everything—over and over—trapping me in a loop of fear, shame, and something else I didn’t want to name.

The door creaked open, and I jerked, my breath catching in my throat.

Austin stood in the doorway, his broad frame filling it, his eyes locked on me like he felt the storm inside my head. He didn’t speak right away, just walked inside, moving slowly like he was afraid I’d break.

I hated that. Hated that he thought I was fragile.

Hated that I thought I was.

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmured, crouching in front of me. "You need anything?"

I shook my head, forcing myself to meet his eyes. There was something there, something unsettled.

My fingers curled into the blanket at my sides. "Where are we?" My voice was hoarse, weak. I hated that too.

"Safehouse," he said simply. "We’re still in Mexico, outside the city limits. No one knows we’re here."

Safe.

I wanted to believe it.

Austin reached out, his fingertips barely brushing my hand. The warmth of his skin should have comforted me. Instead, my body locked up, muscles going tight. I pulled back instinctively.

His jaw ticked, but he didn’t react. Didn’t make a big deal of it, but I saw the flicker of pain in his eyes.

"Emmy—"

"I’m fine," I cut him off quickly. Too quickly.

His brows pulled together. "Don’t do that, sweetheart. Don’t pretend with me."

My chest tightened, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.

The walls closed in. The memories pushed forward. The Ghost’s voice in my ear. The vile demands. The way I’d forced myself to comply, knowing the alternative was so much worse. Javier blending into Austin and how I reacted to him.

A sob ripped free before I could stop it. I slapped a hand over my mouth, horrified at the sound.

Austin didn’t hesitate. He was on the bed in an instant, pulling me into his arms. Strong. Unshakable. Safe.

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