Playlist
“In A Black Out” by Hamilton Leithauser + Rostam
“Medicine” by Daughter
“Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana
“Misery Business” by Paramore
“Sweetness” by Jimmy Eat World
“(Love Is Like A) Heatwave” by Martha Reeves & The Vandellas
“Hateful” by The Clash
“There’s No ‘I’ in Team” by Taking Back Sunday
“bloody valentine” by Machine Gun Kelly
“Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac
“Hey” by Pixies
“My Body Is a Cage” by Arcade Fire
“Earned It” by The Weeknd
“Out Of The Woods” by Taylor Swift
“exile” by Taylor Swift + Bon Iver
“Praying” by Kesha
“Cornfield Chase” by Hans Zimmer
Chapter One
Alaina
I wake with a gasp.
Consciousness doesn’t arrive slowly. It’s a snap of your fingers. One minute, I’m in the back hallway of O’Malley’s, and the next moment, I’m jerking awake.
It takes me a moment to realize that I’m hot—really hot. My first thought is that our air conditioner is out again. I look around, expecting to see my dorm room in New York City before I remember that I was staying in Boston with my mom’s new fiancé’s family. Everything is kind of foggy, but those details are irrelevant when I turn my head and see the inside of a van. My fingers start tingling, and my mouth falls open in shock. A sudden cough wracks my body with the movement.
Everything hurts. Sharp pain lances across my head, centering around my hairline and temple.
“What happened?” I know I said the words out loud, but I can’t hear them. A sliver of panic zips down my spine, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
It smells like a campfire, only less roasted marshmallows and more sharp chemicals.
With one hand, I push off the floor to sit up and touch my ear with the other. I feel something wet on my fingers—blood. Everything is muffled like I’m underwater, and the smell of smoke is getting stronger.
My brows crease and goosebumps cover my arms. I don’t understand what’s happening, but I try to push down the panic that’s creeping up my throat.
Where’s Wolf?
And Rush?
Or Sully?
Movement catches my attention, and I see bright-orange flames through the front windshield. They ensnare me with their hypnotic sway, and I lose precious seconds in their deadly trap.
Oh my god. They’re coming from the hood of the van.
Urgency floods my veins and adrenaline kicks in and forces me to move. I scramble up to stand and hit my head on the ceiling. The impact knocks me back a step, and I trip over something and land hard on the floor. My tailbone takes the brunt of the impact and my elbows sting, but it’s the least of my concerns when I see what I tripped on.
Or should I say who.
A guy dressed in all black—including a black ski mask rolled partially up to reveal a brown beard—lays motionless next to me. Before I have time to do anything, a guy with red eyes gets in my face. He’s dressed the same way as the guy I just tripped over, and fear holds my body in a vice grip.
I can’t hear what he’s yelling over the roaring in my ears, but my fight-or-flight instincts kick in as I remember him from the back hallway of O’Malley’s.
When he bends down and checks the guy next to me for a pulse, I seize my opportunity. I scramble around, get to my feet, and run toward the back door. I make it two steps before someone tackles me from behind.
My chin slams into the floor of the dirty van, and blood fills my mouth. Stars dance before my eyes, and I shake my head to get the ringing to stop.
He wrenches my arms behind my back, and I thrash around and kick anything my feet come in contact with. Sweat rolls down my face as the air in the van turns sweltering. I feel something wrap around my wrists, and I feel myself detach from my body.
I’m reduced to my base as a human being, and I know that I’m not ending my days on this Earth trapped in a fiery van.
It takes a moment for the sound to filter in, but I can hear myself screaming. It’s the loudest noise I’ve ever heard come out of my mouth, but I can’t stop.
Stopping means that I’m giving up.
Stopping means I’m resigning myself to this fate.
Stopping means that I’ll never see three pairs of intense, stunning, captivating eyes again.
So I don’t stop. I can’t. I won’t.
I scream and I claw and I kick anything that I touch.
I turn fucking feral.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Will you hand me the goddamn syringe already? If we die in here, then we don’t get paid,” the person wrestling with me yells, but I don’t give his words a second of my time. I need every second I can get.
I hear someone answer, but I can barely make out the words over my screaming and the lingering ringing.
From the corner of my eye, I see a syringe, and I redouble my efforts.
“Remember, you brought this on yourself,” he hisses in my face, spit flying to my cheek. He grabs the syringe from the outstretched hand and brings it down hard on my neck before tossing it to the side.
It takes all of ten seconds before my muscles betray me and stop working. Five seconds later, I fight to keep my eyes open as the red-eyed demon of a man gets in my face.
“She’s done. Let’s go before they catch up to us. If they catch us, we’re fucking dead, and I’m not dying because Smitty can’t fucking drive.”
I hear the creak and groan of metal being pushed open and feel my body carried out of the van. The last thing I see is the dark sky as someone carries me from the flaming van to a waiting car.
Chapter Two
Rush
“Some motherfucker came into our town, into our bar, shit on our authority, and stole our goddamn girl!” The words come out in a torrent of rage, exploding into the still kitchen air by the last word. With my arm stretched out, I swipe it across the table, and everything crashes to the floor. Coffee mugs full of room-temperature coffee shatter and spill liquid everywhere. Loose papers flutter to the floor, some landing in the coffee puddles. My jaw ticks at the mess on the floor, but my rage won’t let me take the time to pick it up.
Palms flat, I brace myself against the table and breathe in through my nose with my eyes on the wood grain in front of me.
I wait until I’m sure I can speak without wanting to destroy everything in my path. “I don’t care who we have to bribe or kill, we’re finding her, and we’re bringing her home.” I glance at my brother. His jaw clenches, but his face remains carefully blank. He rakes his fingers through his dark-blond hair and stares right back at me with those cold blue eyes of his.
“We’ll find her, brother.”
“Soon, Sully. She’s been gone too long already. And I won’t be held responsible for what happens to those who stand in my way.”
“Aye, soon. I’ll check-in with Wolf.” He pauses for a moment, his stare probing before he turns on his heel and silently leaves the house through the patio door.