Page 98 of Say You'll Never Let Go

“Isn’t it, though?”

“Where’d you learn that?”

“From you,” she deadpans.

He levels her with an unimpressed stare.

“No, really. You’ve always been an expert at making everything unbearably awkward. Can we go to sleep now?”

He huffs with a shake of his head. “Yes. Please.”

“Do you want to use a pillow between us?”

“Oh my god. Stop,” he groans.

“I just know how delicate your sensibilities are.” Her eyes glimmer with the satisfaction of roasting him.

“Keep going. I’ll take all the pillows and the blankets.”

“Okay, okay. Just checking. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

“Wade?”

“Hmm.”

“Sure you don’t need that pillow? For your own protection?”

“I swear, I’m ‘bout to go sleep in that other trailer with the newspapers piled up in the windows.”

She laughs for a good ten seconds until things feel normal again. He can breathe after she expertly kicked the giant boulder off his chest.

It’s easier than he expected to fall asleep, but his subconscious still grieves, showing him a reality he’ll never have. Her naked skin warm against his, her words crushing as they are coveted when she whispers,‘I love you.’

His heart has been mended and broken tonight, all at the same time. He’s beginning to wonder if the only place he’ll have all of her is in his dreams.

* * *

Kara is driving the bike today. He suddenly understands why she likes to curl around him when she’s the one on the back.

He keeps a steady distance, only anchoring at her shoulder to help the overall balance. Busies himself with thoughts of theArizona mountains they’re headed for instead of how close he is to what he wants.

They’re taking a straight shot this time, having decided to go there first and then swing back up into Utah and Colorado. If all goes as planned, they’ll be hiking by tomorrow. Had to veer further into the back roads after fallen trees and abandoned cars blocked their way, but they’ll get there, eventually. There is no rush anymore.

Their slow speed is ultimately what ends up saving their lives when they drive the bike into a taut wire strung between two trees. They never see it coming until it’s too late. The front tire hits the barrier, squealing against pavement and catapulting them into the air, only to crash hard and skid several feet across broken asphalt.

He’s disoriented, only vaguely aware of what’s happened. There are a few inches of road rash on his arm where his shirt ripped away, but he’s otherwise unscathed except for the way his bones creak when he moves and the nightclub bass pumping through his skull that has him flashing back to his time in the cell.

His first logical thought isn’t for himself, though, but for Kara. He rolls onto his stomach to push clumsily up onto his knees and gasp her name before spotting her unconscious across the road with two men searching her pockets.

“Get the fuck away from her!” he yells, coughing out a mouthful of blood from a cracked back tooth he only now noticed. She’s hurt, unaware, andsomeone is touching her.

There’s a woman and a young boy he spots from the corner of his eye stripping the bike clean of any supplies where it lies on its side with the wheels still spinning, but he ain’t worried about them. The knife he grabs from its sheath is meant for the ones touching his girl.

“Leave her alone,” he growls again. “Kara? Dammit, get your fucking hands off—”

A booted foot catches him in the face before he can finish. The last thing he sees before he passes out is someone stripping the gray hoodie off Kara’s limp arms and yanking every last item they own from the storage container on the bike.