My eyes flick to Kellan. His lips are pressed into a line, his hands idle, one resting on the seat between us. He notices me watching and starts to say something, but I turn away.
If I do this, I might die. But at least it won’t be at their hands. At least it won’t be anonymous. Someone will find me and tell my boys I loved them.
I breathe in through my nose, slow and quiet. I wait for the next bend in the road, and then I do it. I actually do it.
I lunge forward and grab the steering wheel.
Declan shouts, one sharp “EY!” and then he jerks against me as I yank it hard to the right. The tires screech and then lift. Kellan grabs for me. Rian’s eyes snap open. There’s a sharp drop beside the road and we hit it at full speed.
The car lurches and flips. And then we’re airborne. Gravity takes us.
The last thing I hear is the sound of my own breath catching as the world turns upside down.
Smoke billows around me, and the car horn blares in my ears. I’m alive. I start to retch from all the smoke in my lungs, coughing violently, drooling into my lap. My eyes open, and blood rushes to my head. I’m upside down.
Kellan is shouting next to me, also hanging, asking, “Are you okay?” Even though he’s yelling, I can only make out the shape of his mouth. My ears ring, and my head moves throughmolasses as I look at him. He’s frantically trying to unbuckle my seat belt, fingers jabbing at the release.
My gaze drags forward. Rian is crushed against the passenger door, metal folded into him. His eyes are wide and unfocused. Declan’s chin droops to his chest, his body slumped over the wheel. The steering column looks like it caved into his ribs.
Did I do it? Did I actually do it? Are they dead?
Before Kellan realizes what I’m doing, I brace against the side of the car and lunge toward him in the dead weight of zero gravity. I grab the front of his shirt with one hand, and with the other, I slip his gun from his hip.
His eyes flash with betrayal mixed with something indiscernible—surprise, maybe pride.
I unbuckle myself and fall hard, crashing onto the shattered glass and twisted metal. Pain stabs my palms, but I wipe them on my shirt and move.
Rian groans and reaches for his gun. I press Kellan’s pistol to his temple. He’s too slow, dazed—probably concussed—and I take his from him too, before turning to Declan. His gun is just out of reach. He’s pressed so close to the wheel I can barely wedge my fingers around it. As I strain, his eyes flutter open.
His gray stare latches onto mine, and his hand shoots toward me and clamps around my wrist.
“I could just shoot your dick off and leave you to whatever kind of life that would be,” I whisper into his ear. I press the gun against the inside of his thigh and drag it upward, slow and threatening. Backing up, I point the gun straight at his dick toshow him I mean business. He releases my wrist, too squeezed to put up a proper fight anyway.
I unbuckle Kellan and duck as he crashes to the ground beside me, and then I back out of the wreck, both weapons steady in my grip. Kellan follows, cautious.
The car is a heap of steel and glass. It’s a miracle any of us are breathing. I did that. I’m proud of it.
“What are you thinking?” Kellan asks, voice grim. “They’ll never let you live now.”
“Then I won’t let them out.” I shrug. The power of the pistols surprises me. I like it more than I should.
He licks his lips and sighs. “You have to. They’re my brothers.”
“Are you sayingyou’llkill me if I don’t? With what weapon?”
He considers. “With my hands?” He takes a hesitant step toward me, and I fire near his foot. Dirt sprays, and he flinches, holding his hands up in surrender.
“I’d rethink that.” I take another step back. “Maybe I’ll just run.”
“Caroline—” He steps toward me, hands out. “I can help you. We can figure this out.”
I laugh. It comes out raw, sharp, nothing like my real laugh. “I really don’t think we can, Kellan.”
“We’llmakethem listen, okay? We’ll—” Something catches his eye behind me, and when I glance back, he lunges at me. He sends me careening into the ground and presses my wrists against the dirt.
I scream at him, “I trusted you! I trusted Paul!”
“There is no Paul! There’s no one here but me!” he screams back over top of me. One of his knees pins my arm, and the other is firmly in my stomach. He wrenches the guns from me and, gasping for breath, repeats, “There’s no one here but me. Look at me.”
