Page 71 of Lose to Win: Lost Trilogy: Part 3
“That was too soon,” Wyatt confirms my fears.
I push at the large door on the side of the van and jump out. I am about to run toward Sully when I realize how stupid that would be. Instead, I stop myself only a few feet in front of the van and start yelling.
“Run, fucker! Run!”
Sully’s arms go front and back as he is running for his life. Literally. I watch in horror as a large piece of metal seems to fly toward his head when a second explosion goes off. Sully looks behind him just in time, dropping to the ground when he sees the danger. As soon as the coast is clear, he jumps up and starts running again.
When he is at a safe distance from everything, I can breathe again. I run the last few feet that Sully has to reach me.
“Fucker!” I’m almost crying. “You scared the fuck out of me!”
I pat him on the back a few times, then push him off me. He is covered in soot, the sweat on his face leaving trails on his skin. His arms are covered in scrapes and cuts, some of them actively bleeding, but neither looks life threatening.
“It’s finally done,” he huffs out, trying to get his breathing to normal.
The driver of the van who’s been running alongside Sully drops to the ground, looking exhausted, and I take a few moments to check on him, making sure he is okay.
Before long, we see a lone SUV approaching us. It’s Malone. With a signal of his head, the driver of the van gets in the SUV.
“You need to leave here,” Malone tells us all. “The actual van that was supposed to be the second vehicle in the caravan will be here in two minutes. The police will be here shortly after, so it’s best there’s no sign of you here.”
We all nod and get in the van where Wyatt and Devereaux are waiting with relieved looks on their faces. The door slides into place and automatically locks when our driver takes off, leaving a trail of dust behind.
“You need all that cleaned up,” Wyatt points at Sully, and I have to agree. Some of the cuts look bad, and God only knows what’s under all the dirt.
Sully takes himself in, managing to surprise me when he asks to be taken to the hospital.
“What?” I snort. “That’s stupid.”
“You’re right. I’ll go somewhere else instead.” He proceeds to give the driver an address that’s on the other side of Red Lodge.
“What is this place?” I look around in wonder when we get there. All houses look the same, even their yards are identical, and they are very close together.
“HOA hell,” Wyatt mutters.
“Legit,” I agree when the van pulls into the driveway where Sully directs the driver.
He gets out of the vehicle, looking cocky as all fuck.
“Are we supposed to wait for you?” I can’t help asking. “Or are we just leaving you here?”
“Don’t wait up,” he smirks just as he slides the door back into place.
I snort in amusement as the van pulls out of the driveway, and then we are on our way to Devereux’s house.
“I’m not staying long at the house,” Wyatt informs us twenty minutes later when we are closer to Devereaux’s place. “I just want to see Ali. So she knows I’m okay.”
There’s a short moment of silence.
“Ma, too,” he adds with a faint smile on his face. “She worries.”
“That she does,” Devereaux agrees.
“After I see Emily,” I intervene, “I’ll come with you to the hospital. Becca is there all by herself.”
“Yeah, maybe Ma can take her home to shower or something,” Wyatt agrees. “Today is day three of him being out.”
Dylan being in this coma is weighing heavy on all of us. Not sure what is going to happen if he dies. It will leave us all disjointed. After all, he is the reason why we left the club, then followed him here.
