Page 11 of Dark Savior

There were no houses around me—just trees and fields. I was a sitting duck with no one around to help me. I had to get this car started and drive it as far as it would take me without stopping.

Then—and only then—would I find a way to call my brother and ask for help.

Finally—fucking finally—the car started, purring to life beneath me. I could’ve sobbed in relief, but I bit it back. My head was throbbing still, pain exploding through the back of my skull. I needed to drive before I passed out again.

I slammed the car into reverse and backed up just enough to swing the car around and high-tail it to the highway, my heart hammering against my breastbone, threatening to slam right through my chest and into the dirty floorboard.

I was going to throw up, and I couldn’t afford to stop. I had to get away. Because what if the rest of the Souls of Grim rode out here? What if they came looking for me? They had to have known that Eyepatch and Broken-Tooth had me, especially if their president wanted me. The last thing I needed, especially with only a steel pipe as a weapon and injured like I was, was those fucking assholes finding me before I could make it to safety.

I threw up into my lap, my foot still pressed into the accelerator. Tears burned down my cheeks, and I reached over to crank the window, letting cooler air in to try to get rid of the stench of my vomit. My hands shook on the steering wheel when I had to slow down to enter a town, but I made it through without anyone taking notice of me, and as soon as the speed limit kicked back up, I pressed the accelerator down again, my arms tensed, my back screaming in agony as I leaned forward to see better, my vision blurring once more.

I had to get the fuck away from here. And I would.

I fucking had to.

Or, at the very least, I was going to crash and die trying.

The car rolled to a stop before dying right at a gas station. It was dark now, and the town I was in was mostly quiet with only a few cars on the street. I was a fucking mess, but I didn’t care. I didn’t give a single fuck what anyone thought of me.

I’d just barely escaped what would have more than likely been absolute fucking hell. I deserved to walk around looking like I’d just crawled out of a fucking crime scene, goddammit.

I angled out of the rank car and stumbled into the gas station. My head still hurt something fierce, and I knew if I looked at my back in the mirror, it would more than likely have some swelling and bruising. I could feel it.

“Holy shit, woman,” the younger guy working the counter muttered as he stared at me. Couldn’t blame him. I was covered in vomit. Blood was on my arms and shirt. I was pale and shaky, and I knew my hair was disheveled as fuck. “You need a hospital?”

I shook my head. “You got a phone?” I rasped, my throat raspy from lack of use for hours and being parched.

He nodded and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, sliding it across the counter to me. With a trembling hand, I grabbed it and dialed Carter’s number by heart, lifting the phone to my ear. The guy disappeared from behind the counter while I sagged against it, shutting my eyes as Carter’s burner phone rang.

And rang.

Please fucking answer.

“Who the fuck—” Carter growled.

I sobbed, tears immediately streaking down my cheeks at the sound of his voice. “Carter?” I blubbered.

“Rachel?!” he barked. “Fucking hell, Rachel, where are you?”

I sniffled. “I don’t know,” I croaked. “But it’s been fucking hell, and I need help, and⁠—”

“Breathe,” he told me. “The person whose phone you’re using—can you ask them where you are?”

I turned and blinked in surprise when I saw the stranger holding a change of clothes. “You look like you need to change,” he quietly told me.

I roughly cleared my throat. “I, uh, thank you,” I murmured. He set them on the counter. “Can you, uhm, tell me where I am?”

He nodded, rattling off a town name I’d never heard of before. Carter muttered a curse. “Stay where you are. Callan and I will be there in about an hour, okay?”

“Promise?” I croaked.

“I promise, little sis. Just hang tight.”

He ended the call, and I handed the stranger back his phone. He jerked his head toward the back of the store. “Go get cleaned up and changed. You reek, and I’m sure you’re uncomfortable. And then, I’ll let you chill in the office until someone comes to help you.” He flickered his eyes to the car. “I’m assuming you can’t drive it?”

I shook my head. “Out of gas. No money.”

He nodded. “I’ll push it behind the store so it’s out of sight. So no one knows you’re here.”