Page 107 of Buried in Blood

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Yet.

“Lucien?” Brooke finally whispers, voice raw.

“You’re safe,” I say, eyes locked on the mirror. “But we’re not out yet.”

She nods like she wants to believe me. Like she needs it to be true.

We take a hard left onto the old access road. Gravel flies. The tires groan. The silence grows thick.

Then—

Headlights.

Far behind us. Gaining.

“Shit.”

I grab the walkie. “Now.”

The trees ahead of us split open as the second car barrels onto the road, cutting behind us to form a staggered escape pattern. Just like we planned.

If Damien’s people are chasing us, they’ll have to guess which car she’s in.

“Don’t look back,” I tell her.

But I do.

And the lights veer toward the decoy.

They’re taking the bait.

For now.

We hit the old maintenance tunnel in under four minutes. Concrete and overgrowth. No cameras.

The car slows just enough to turn in—then darkness.

Cold, thick, suffocating.

Brooke shudders.

“We’re okay,” I say again, this time softer. “We just have to sit tight for thirty minutes. Then we’ll meet the convoy.”

She doesn’t speak.

She just leans against the window, tears slipping down her painted cheeks.

I turn my head, giving her space.

Because for now, she’s safe. But Damien will know soon.

And when he does?

He’ll burn the world to the ground to get her back.

Let him try.

Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t just steal a girl.

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