Page 47 of Overcast

“Get the fuck away from the truck, man.”

I roll my eyes, hesitantly peering around the car door to see if I can find Stormi. The glass is broken, mostly on the inside, into small pieces all over the truck’s roof. Then I notice a few strands of blonde hair, and they’re not moving.

I need a limb, a piece of her shirt, anything to yank her out.

Picking up a decent-sized slice of glass, I only have one opportunity to throw it, and reach for Stormi.

After that, I got nothing.

Tossing it over the side, I’m hoping that the dude is still staring in the direction from the last noise because I’m already moving, seeking for anything to pull on her. I hear a soft clink to the cement, letting me know that it’s fallen to the ground, and I see Stormi’s white t-shirt.

Already grabbing onto it, I heave, not knowing if she’s stuck or knocked out.

From the weight that follows, she’s unconscious, and I have to drag her along shards of glass without being careful.

“Mother—” Another gunshot penetrates the air, followed by a second. A burning irritation hits my forearm, but I maintain my focus on her, my assignment.

Suddenly, Stormi is pulled back, and I know he’s trying to keep her in the vehicle. I wrench once more, and she comes with me.

As quick as I can and with another shot off, I get her positioned against the fender. Her head tilts to the side, exposing blood in her hair and on the creamy ivory skin of her neck. Those blue eyes that fuck me up remain closed from my accidental truck gymnastics.

Alright enough of this shit.

I lightly start smacking her cheek. “Stormi, wake up.”

The sound of glass remnants starts to ring inside the vehicle—he’s moving this way.

Lying her on the ground, I stand, waiting for his head to pop out through the open window. It does, and I uppercut him with the tip of my boot, followed by another round to his throat.

He chokes, and before I can rip his gun from his hand, the sound of a hammer clicks behind me, halting my next step.

“Don’t fucking move.”

I raise my hands, standing still before nervous-ass starts blasting off bullets. He fucked up when I heard his voice shake.

“I just want the girl,” I reply.

“You’re not going to get her.” The guy sounds young and hopefully inexperienced. He signed up for a little more than what he bargained for.

Flicking my gaze to the other male, he’s out cold. “Let’s talk about this,” I encourage, beginning to slowly turn around. “I—”

“Don’t move!” The barrel of the gun grazes against my skull then presses into it. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

“Alright,” I quip. “Why do you need her?”

“Don’t ask quest—just shut the fuck up.”

I shrug. “Okay, dude.” A creamy moan emits below me, but it’s too fucking sweet-sounding for it to be the fucker I just kicked.

Peering over at where I left Stormi, she begins to stir and lifts her head off the ground, her blue eyes slamming into mine.

They expand, not expecting to see me, but then they track to the dude standing next to me.

“Stand up, sweetheart,” I order, keeping still because I want the gun on me and not her. Her brows knit as she brushes her forehead with her hand and finds blood. “Now.”

She immediately begins to rise, but the youngster behind me barks out, “Stay down.”

“She needs a hospital,” I tell him, watching her stare at me. Not that she’s going to go to one, but I need something to distract this dude.

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