Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I wouldn’t do Lorenzo’s job by axing my self-esteem. “Enzo, have you gone mad! You’re using me in a revenge scheme because of an ancient UFC match between our fathers? Why act as if you care—”
Lachlan’s hand shot into my line of sight, snatching the phone from me. Blood dripped from his fingers, splattering onto my jeans. He hung up, then slammed the gearshift into drive.
“He’s not worth it.” Lachlan’s voice strained, and his eyes darted between me and the dirt road. The vehicle shot forward, and we passed the pub to one side, the other lined with stones.
“Sorry. Couldn’t help it.”
“Call someone. Any—”
A shadow lunged out of the fog from the top of a hay bale on the side of the road.
“Lorenzo!” I screamed.
The soldier landed on the hood, fist slamming the windshield. One bash. Another. The glass spiderwebbed under the force.
Lachlan jerked the wheel, and Lorenzo flew off, tumbling into a roll before springing back to his feet like something inhuman. My pulse shot to my throat. Jesus, a little help here.
Before I could finish my prayer, bright lights snapped on. A Jeep roared forward, headlights blinding, closing in fast from ahead. Someone was helping him.
Instinctively, I remembered the female voice from the lake. The woman engaged us in a game of chicken we’d never win in this rusted sedan. Lachlan swerved.
The Jeep’s suspension swallowed the terrain like it was nothing.
The phone fell from my hand as I clawed at the roof, needing to hold on. Two holes in the roof mocked me.
The Jeep came up from behind and drew even, trying to push us off the road. Lachlan gritted his teeth and let the driver get close. Long hair spun through the air as the driver turned to glare at us.
Lachlan cut the wheel at the last second. Tires caught the stony ridge. The Jeep tipped, momentum carrying it into a slow-motion roll before it slammed around. Once. Twice. Seven before it landed on its roof. Flames erupted from the undercarriage, consuming the vehicle in an inferno. Bathed in the fiery glow, the woman strained against the door, fighting to release her jammed seatbelt. Her body jerked before she fell limp against the driver’s seat, flames consuming her.
As we passed, the explosion’s heat and the acrid stench of burning flesh choked me.
“Get the phone.” Lachlan tipped his chin to where it had fallen near my feet. “Call …” Even the moonlight couldn’t hide his pale complexion.
All this blood. He had to be losing too much precious blood. “Pull over, baby.”
“Nae.” He shook his head, as if trying to remain conscious. “Lorenzo didn’t have time to get in the Jeep. Safe to say, he ain’t dead. Need to find a main road. Once … once I do … I’ll know our direction. You can dri—” His eyes fell shut.
“Lachlan!” My scream ripped as his head dipped. The car veered toward the stone barrier over a black river. Loch Ness? Where were we?
He roused, slammed the brake, and then he was out. Unconscious.
I maneuvered the car into park and scrambled from the vehicle, my legs shaking, the cold biting my skin. Dragging him proved impossible after I groaned and tugged and shot glances over my shoulder to confirm if Lorenzo had caught up. We were a few miles away, but the maniac could run.
After adjusting the driver’s seat, I entered the back and tugged Lachlan over. Once I tucked him into the seat, my fingers fumbled with the scrunchie I’d found in my pocket earlier.
Tears stung my cheeks as I tied it around his injured hand and placed his hand above his heart to help slow the blood loss.
I removed the hoodie and jean jacket and placed them over him. As I did, I noticed a lot of blood near the pocket of his jeans. I patted around, trying to see where he was injured, and discovered his severed finger. I carefully pulled it from his pocket and looked for a safe place for it. In the front, a second cupholder held a glass. I poured the liquid out; a small amount of ice rested in the bottom. I placed Lachlan’s finger inside, securing the cup back in the holder. Thank God for small miracles.
Teeth chattering, I slid into the driver’s seat. My hands shook as I used the dead Scot’s phone. The late model required a pattern. My shaky thumbprint traced the dots again. Triangle. Square. Tiny square. Rectangle. Bleep.
I pocketed the phone, determined to retry later, but I had to move. Tears fell from my eyes as I drove into the fog.
“C’mon, Tash … stay awake. Look for a payphone even if you don’t know anybody’s dang number.” I groaned, slapping my cheeks to stay warm.
Every shadow looked like Lorenzo. Every turn, I expected him to appear.
The road narrowed. No police station in sight. Cottages and dark apartment buildings slipped past. I was too afraid to stop. The men had hated Lachlan because of his name. They’d known who he was. I couldn’t chance approaching the wrong door for help.