Page 73 of Extracted

CHAPTER 20

Dallas wound and unwound his fist on the top of the steering wheel. Fierce, blinding rage made his pulse deafening against his eardrums.

They were getting closer and closer to death each time.

Had he not woken when he had, Gemma would be dead.

That stark realization made the acrid taste of fear touch his tongue. Another second or two and they wouldn’t be sitting here right now—she wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Gemma had been right to go with her gut and return to the CIA. He’d almost gotten her killed for fuck’s sake. He’d been too distracted while driving. And not just by their conversation, but also by his lovesick woes.

Jesus fuck.

If he’d been more alert, like he normally was, he’d have seen the truck coming. Known it was going to make impact. Instead, he’d been fucking sidelined.

He rubbed his palm over his cheek. The pain in his head was getting stronger. Enough that if he had a pain reliever handy, he’d pop it. He needed to keep his wits. This shit was far from over.

“Do you think it was Silas?” Gemma asked, lowering her phone—probably texting Charlene.

He shook his head once. The movement made the wound pulse. “Doubt it. Why would he bother? He’s meeting me in a couple hours. If he wanted me dead, he’d do it then.”

“But he wants me dead.”

Dallas shrugged. “Since Silas wasn’t on the scene, I don’t think that’s the case. More than likely it was someone who knows where we stayed and took the time to get a good look at us before following us out here,” he said, gesturing to the deserted road surrounded by jungle. “To kill us.”

She sighed. “I guess that makes sense.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her lift her hands to her face. A loose laugh shook itself free from her lips. “Can you believe this? I mean, look at what we’ve been through the last few days and people are still trying to kill us.”

“They won’t stop. Not with Silas alive.”

Silence struck for two beats.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he lied. “I’m just rambling.” He ran his tongue over his dry lips. He couldn’t keep Gemma from the CIA. Not when they could actually get her out of the country in one piece. He also couldn’t hope Silas would forget about her. That wasn’t going to happen.

No. The only way to end this was to end Silas.

“Dallas Holmes. Don’t you dare tell me you’re thinking about doing something stupid.” Gemma’s delicate hand grasped his knee, and her fingernails pierced his flesh. “Tell me.”

He pushed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “The only stupid thing would be to let Silas live.”

“Oh my god.” She threw herself back into her seat with as much gusto as a drama teacher. “You’ve lost your mind. Is it your head?” She leaned forward and pressed her fingers on a spot near his gash. “It’s your head. Your concussion is making you confused. We need to get you checked out.”

He tilted his face out of reach. “My head’s fine. I’ve had more concussions than the number of times we’ve slept together, all right?” The words dropped with force.

He pulled his trembling hand away from the steering wheel and placed it on her thigh. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I just—fuck I’m angry.”

She didn’t shake off his hand, but she didn’t reach for him either. “I don’t care that you’re angry. You don’t need to be an asshole.”

Pain ripped apart his chest. He was screwing everything up. He needed a minute. A break. Just a few seconds to clear his mind and look into Gemma’s blue eyes before he sent her off to never see her again.

But he didn’t have that luxury.

He pulled his gaze away from the road again for a second. Her teary blue eyes made the ripping sensation in his chest downright unbearable. “Please forgive me.”

She blinked and her tears fell.

He mumbled a curse and pulled to the side of the road. Dangerous. Reckless. Stopping for even a second could get them killed, but he couldn’t live knowing he’d caused her even an ounce of pain. Twisting in his seat, he pulled her head to his shoulder.

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