Page 23 of To Keep A Wolf
“You okay?” he asks me.
I ignore the pain each movement causes. I’m alive. So is he. That’s what matters.
“Yes.”
“Let’s get you out of here,” he says.
Levi and Tripp begin moving, slower this time, wary as we make our way down the drive. We use trees, cars, and anything else we can as cover. But whatever chaos has broken out inside seems to be enough to keep Jadick and the rest of his men distracted.
Against every fear I have of being caught, we make it to the truck Frankie left for us.
An old pickup with more scratches than paint and a dented hood. Tripp lowers the tailgate, and Levi climbs up into the bed with me still clutched in his arms. A pile of blankets has been tossed down, and I brace myself because no amount of bedding is going to be enough to cushion my body against what’s to come. But I have no other option.
From the house, a howl sounds, echoing against the velvet-gray sky.
My blood runs cold at the sound.
“That’s our cue,” Tripp says, his earlier cheer suddenly gone. In its place is an urgency I can practically taste on my own tongue.
Quickly, Levi lowers us both to the bed of the truck so that we’re flat on our backs and tucked out of sight. Tripp slams the tailgate back into place and rounds the truck, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.
I bite my lip, knowing this is going to hurt like hell against my already tortured body. Levi turns and reaches over, pulling me onto my side to face him.
His breath hits my nose, and I drink it in, my eyes burning with tears that suddenly have nothing to do with the poison coating my veins.
“Hang on to me,” he whispers, using his own hands to wind my arms around his body and latch them into place against his back. Then he does the same to me.
The truck revs as Tripp hits the gas, and we lurch forward. My breath catches at the suddenness of the motion, my hands fisting in the fabric of Levi’s shirt. Our eyes meet and hold through every pot hole and every lurching turn as Tripp drives us out of Blackstone and toward a freedom I never thought I’d have again.
“Don’t let go,” I whisper to Levi.
“I never did.”
CHAPTER7
Instead of pain from the jostling, I am sucked into a nothingness that feels dangerously easy. Poison. Pain. The urgency of running for our lives. None of that matters here. None of it can touch me.
Touch.
My attempt to remain in the darkness is eventually interrupted by a pair of hands.
They sweep across my skin, tucking my hair behind my ears. Running in circles across my back then pausing along my shoulder where Jadick shot me. I tense, bracing myself for pain even in this half-consciousness. But the hands move away, trailing lightly down my arms. Over my hip. Tucking underneath my prone body.
In the next moment, I’m lifted up and out of the truck. Out of the darkness and into the light. A dim glow that feels familiar. Or maybe it’s the familiar scent.
Like a memory.
The hands lay me down again, this time against something softer than the unforgiving truck bed. A real bed then. A mattress, anyway. Despite its softness, I don’t bother opening my eyes. I’m not ready to return to the world.
Though, the hands are nice.
They don’t leave me. Resting carefully against my ribs as whoever they belong to speaks to someone else. I listen as their deep voices murmur quietly.
Their even tone is soothing, the familiarity comforting. Their words float over me, but I can’t bring myself to react. It’s too much.
I’ve hurt too long.
“…should have come out of it by now.”
