Page 46 of You've Got The Love
“Don’t worry, I still like you,” I say with a grin.
“Good to know.” His hand shifts from my waist to my hip, squeezing lightly, and the movement sparks heat low in my belly, memories of last night flashing bright and dangerous—his mouth curves, like he knowsexactlywhat he’s doing to me.
The soft, lazy moment lasts until the burner phone buzzes against the floor of the van.
The sound shatters our little bubble.
Bas is up in an instant, leaning over to snatch the phone. He’s still not used to this—being hunted—but the raw instinct is there. Protective. Hyperaware. His shoulders are tense as he checks the screen.
“What?” I ask, my voice already tight.
He exhales hard. “Jack.”
The van feels smaller all of a sudden, like the trees outside are pressing in.
He reads the message out loud.
Jack: Got a few of ‘em. Two down, three ran. Don’t get comfortable.
My stomach drops. “The MC caught them?”
“Someof them,” Bastiaan says, eyes flicking to the windows, scanning the tree line like he expects a black van to roll up any second. “Which means the others are still out there.”
The safety I’d been pretending we had evaporates instantly.
He pulls a shirt over his head, his movements quick now, focused. “We can’t stay here. If they were close enough for Jack to grab a couple, the rest won’t be far behind.”
I wrap the blanket tighter around me for a second, not ready to let go of the warmth of him, of us. “Where do we go?”
“North,” he says immediately. “Stick to the back roads, keep the van moving. I’ve never done this shit before, but…” His jaw flexes. “…feels like the longer we stay in one place, the closer they get.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I hate this.”
“Yeah, me too,” he mutters. Then, a faint, crooked grin makes his dimple pop out. “You’re a pain in the arse to kidnap-proof, by the way.”
A startled laugh bursts out of me despite the fear coiled in my gut. “I’m sorry I’m not a trained fugitive.”
“Well,” he says, tossing me my clothes, “you’re learning fast, liefje.”
I roll my eyes, but the banter feels like a thin lifeline between us and the panic pressing at the edges. We dressquickly, his eyes scanning the windows every few seconds, and shove our few belongings into the bag.
The van still smells like us, like last night, like this impossible, fragile thing we’ve stolen in the middle of danger. It makes my chest ache as I slam the back doors shut and follow him to the front.
Bastiaan grips the wheel, his knuckles white, and glances at me once before turning the key. “Ready?”
No. I’ll never be ready for this kind of thing. But I nod anyway. “Ready.”
The van rumbles to life, breaking the forest’s quiet, and we pull out onto the dirt road, the sunlight flickering through the trees like a strobe. For a moment, I let myself imagine we’re just… travelling. A British woman and a beautiful Dutch man on an adventure, nothing chasing us but the wind.
But the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes cut to the mirrors, says what neither of us does out loud.
The hunt isn’t over. Not even close.
Chapter 27
Bastiaan
The forest is quiet, but it feels like the kind of quiet that waits for something to happen.
