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“It’s Wyatt. Goddammit. I knew I shouldn’t have let him go off by himself.” Stone eyes me then Lucas. “We have to go get him.”
“Shit,” Lucas says. “Is he—?”
“Yep.”
Lucas runs his hands through his hair. He takes a sub, then helps me wrap mine up. “Come on, Wild Girl. We have to go save Wyatt.”
30
We’ve been speeding down desert roads for forty-five minutes, my heart in my throat. I’m sitting in the back of the Audi with a fierce grip on the two seats in front of me. Lucas and Stone don’t talk. Stone’s intense concentration on the road is both terrifying yet oddly satisfying since he’s driving like a crazy person, and Lucas has a death grip on the handle above the car door, leaning forward like he could make the car go even faster if he tried.
The scenery blurs by so fast, I couldn’t enjoy it even if I tried. We hit the limits of a city. The welcome sign whirs past before I can even think to see where we are. My mouth drops as the lights from houses, street posts, and other cars, light up the horizon like twinkling stars. I thought I had to look up to see that much light, but I was wrong. In a way, the city lights are just as beautiful. So much life. So much activity.
A car honks at us as Stone cuts him off. His jaw feathers like it’s a personal affront. It’s dark out now, which is another reason why the city lights are so bright, but it also lets a hint of fear creep in. I don’t know where we are. I don’t know where we’re going, and I certainly don’t understand why Wyatt needs saving.
Eventually, Stone slows the car, veering toward a highway exit. The tires squeal as he makes the turn, merging onto a different highway. A couple of miles down the road, he slows again, and I blink to make sure I’m seeing correctly. Chain-link fences loom into view. Barbwire tops bow out over the road. The straight line of fencing goes on for as far as street lamps light up the side of the road.
“Where the hell are we?” I ask, but in the next instant, the answer looms into view in the form of a sign. My gaze catches on the word prison. “Why is Wyatt here?”
Without answering, Stone drives up to a guard station. The guard comes out with a gun, sighing when he sees Stone, who immediately holds up his hand. “I know. I’m getting him out now.”
“Man, you know we can’t keep doing this.”
“I didn’t realize he was that bad again,” Stone says to the guy holding a gun.A fucking gun.I mean, my dad had a gun that we took into the mountains with us, but that was for shooting poisonous snakes. This gun is for... Well, I guess to keep the people who are inside staying inside, which is a good thing. I can’t keep my eyes off it as Stone drives into an inner perimeter. A parking lot opens up that’s surrounded by another round of gates and fences with a thick, high wall. We can’t even see the prison proper yet. Not that I want to. Nerves skate over my body. This place is terrifying. This is only my second time out of Clary, and I’m at a prison. I never thought I’d see the day.
Stone leans forward, gazing out the window. He picks up speed when a shadow in the corner moves. The bright lights shining down from above, cast Wyatt’s imprint on the pavement in four different directions. When he sees us coming, he plops down on his ass.
Stone parks the car. “I’ll get him,” he huffs.
He exits the car, shoves his hands into his pockets, and strides up to Wyatt. I lean forward while I watch Stone and Wyatt talk. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“Wyatt has a past,” Lucas says softly, sighing as he watches the scene. It’s obvious Wyatt is shit-faced. Stone pulls him to his feet and the cowboy nearly takes them both down when he struggles to stay upright. “We all do.”
“But prison?” I ask, wondering what the hell has happened in Wyatt’s past that he would end up here. Of all places. I don’t know much about the outside world. Obviously. But this place doesn’t seem like some ordinary jail either.
“Yeah,” Lucas says on an exhale. “Here. Always here.”
Stone has to almost carry Wyatt to the car. Lucas hops out, moving to the backseat to open the door for them. As carefully as they can, they help Wyatt into the back who has no problem sprawling out. His head starts out on my shoulder then falls because he lacks the strength to keep it upright. It finally ends in my lap. I take his cowboy hat off carefully and then stroke my fingers through his matted, dark hair.
“Do you want me to sit in the back with him?” Lucas asks.
At that, Wyatt grips me tight, pulling himself into a more comfortable position. I shake my head. “No, I’m good.”
Lucas shuts the back door and then jogs around the rear of the car to get in the front again. When Stone gets in, he puts the car into gear and we’re on the move once again. He lifts his fingers from the steering wheel to wave at the guard whose hard frown lines are impossible to miss.
Stone lets out a breath. “They’re not going to let this keep happening. My last name only goes so far.”
Wyatt turns onto his back, his hand moving out and falling against the backseat near my head. I have to slide out of its trajectory before it hits me. “I fucked up,” he grumbles.
“Huh?”
Lucas turns around from the backseat. “Don’t mind him. He blabbers when he’s shitfaced.”
I nod, and he drops his gaze to my steadying strokes through Wyatt’s hair. Without his cowboy hat, he looks younger. His face holds a more youthful expression, or perhaps that’s because he doesn’t have the strength to keep the hard glint in his eyes he usually carries.
I’m not over what he said earlier, but this guy, the one in front of me right now, is obviously broken. At least in this moment.
“She probably won’t talk to me again,” he says on a sigh.