Page 55 of Dark Wolf Soul
“Still headed for the river?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I tell him.
“Let’s do it.” Dutch makes another turn, putting us on a side road with less traffic and, more importantly, no more of Franco’s SUVs on our tail.
“We made it,” I tell Lexi when I know the coast is clear.
I start to ease away from her, suddenly very aware that I’m close enough to smell the scent of shampoo in her hair. But she grabs my arms and presses them around her.
“Don’t let go,” she whispers quickly. “Not yet.”
I do as she asks, reminding myself I’m merely a warm body. She’s not trying to hold onto me personally. She’s looking for anyone who will protect her from the danger. Before I can stop it, I wonder what it would be like to be the one she wanted. Not for what I can do for her but for who I am.
My body heats against hers, but I shove aside the need that comes with it. Now’s not the time. And Lexi’s not the girl.
We drive on, leaving the city behind and the violence along with it. Realistically, I know the only reason we escaped was because we had the element of surprise on our side. Never, in the history of our families feuding, has anyone brought the fight to Franco’s doorstep. It’s understood between the factions that there must be a boundary around the sanctity of “home.”
Today, I broke that rule. And not for just anyone either. Forher.
There’ll be hell to pay for it later, but even so, I don’t regret it for a second. Not if it means Lexi’s safe. Why that matters to me more than the exact sort of street war I’ve been trying to prevent for decades is a question I’m not quite ready to answer just yet. But I’ll have to face it soon. I won’t have a choice when my father finds out what I’ve done—and who I did it for.
19
LEXI
We drive until the skyscrapers give way to suburbs and those eventually disappear too. Finally, surrounded by trees and country roads, Dutch turns left onto a winding gravel lane with a full canopy of leaves hanging overhead, casting us into shadow. Up front, Dutch sings along to some rap song on the radio, but next to me, Grey is silent.
He hasn’t let go of me yet. Not since he tried and I asked him to please hang on a little longer. I know it’s an illusion, this truce and protectiveness he’s offering, but I need it.
I need to pretend he’s my white knight just for a few minutes.
Franco’s attempt to lock me up is still an open wound. More than that, it’s his rejection that left me reeling. Like the ground beneath my feet is slipping, and I have nothing left to hold onto to keep from sliding right off the edge of the earth.
Nothing except Grey’s arms around me.
I hate that I need him right now.
And I hate how safe I feel with him beside me.
At the end of the road is a large log-cabin-style house with a wide front porch and a glimpse of water peeking out from behind the hedges and trees that surround it. The front yard is shady and serene, which is the exact opposite of the chaos we left behind in the city. And even though it’s peaceful, I can’t help but be suspicious of what hides beneath the surface of this place.
Dutch parks in front of the massive house and gets out.
“Come on,” Grey tells me, climbing out and holding the door open for me.
The moment his arms aren’t holding me anymore, I feel exposed all over again, but I refuse to beg for more, so I steel myself and climb out of the car. Hugging my arms around myself, I set my expression to hopefully hide how shaken up I am.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“My family’s summer cabin,” he says. At my expression, he adds, “Don’t worry. We’re the only ones here.”
I have no choice but to trust him, so when he turns to follow Dutch around the side of the house toward the back, I trail after them.
In the backyard, there’s a patio area with pavers where five Adirondack chairs are set up in a circle with a fire pit set in the center of it all. Dutch heads there, but Grey hangs back.
“Go sit and relax. I’m going to get us some drinks,” he says and hurries toward the house, leaving me alone with Dutch.
I sit on the edge of one of the chairs, as far away from Dutch as I can get, and stare out at the river that winds past the edge of the yard.
