“Pull over,” I say sharply.
“We don’t have time.”
It’s coming. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
I throw a hand over my mouth and Ares finally — fucking finally — looks at me. His eyes go wide.
“Goddamnit,” he says, like I’m doing this on purpose just to inconvenience him. A second later, the car lurches off the road.
I’m up and out of the car before the dust even has a chance to settle, the contents of my near-empty stomach splashing into the dirt.
Once the wave of nausea passes, I notice the silence. The car ticks softly, the engine cooling, and all I hear is the whistling of the wind through the tops of the pines and the distant trilling of birds. We’re at a look-out point, just off the mountain road. A waist-high wooden fence runs along the edge of a cliff that drops down into the valley. It’s beautiful. The dying rays of the run stream out like fingers of gold, tracing the green, reflecting off the glass and chrome of my little town in the distance. I even see the stark white of the sandstone quarry nestled deep in the woods.
“Don’t tell me you’re fucking pregnant.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I turn, my mouth gaping. Ares is out of the car, and he’s watching me from the other side of it, his tattooed hands propped on his hips. He misreads the horror on my face and his eyes narrow into slits.
“Are you kidding me? That is what this is about? You got knocked up and your daddy don’t like it, so you want him dead?” He chuckles, mean and dark. “You’re a real piece of work, kid.”
My stomach clenches like it wants to throw up even more. My throat stings with acidic bile.
“I’m not pregnant,” I manage to grit out. Even the word makes me feel sick.
I snatch my backpack from the footwell and dig around for my bottle of water. It’s lukewarm and tastes like plastic but I swirl some in my mouth anyway, then spit into the dirt.
Ares considers me for a long moment.
“Then why—”
“Dude, ever hear of motion sickness? You were taking those turns like someone was chasing us.”
“The cops are chasing us, Delaney. The cops you brought to my fucking doorstep. Again.”
As soon as the word is loose, he snaps his mouth shut hard enough for me to hear the click of his teeth. Does he feel bad for saying it? For bringing up That Night? There was a part of me that hoped he’d forget it. Move on. That he wouldn’t blame me.
But it’s clear that he still does.
“Where are we going?” I ask, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Like… What happens now?”
Ares takes a breath. For the first time, he looks away from me and I feel some relief not being under his heartless stare. “Safe house.”
“For how long?”
“Until I get the all clear from the brothers.”
“And then what?” I hate the way I sound so needy.
Ares sighs, annoyed, and his head shakes slightly. “Griff will figure out a plan.”
I gnaw at my chapped lips. “What about… what I asked about?”
Ares barks a sharp laugh. “What, kill the Sheriff? That’s not happening.”
I hoist my backpack up so he can see. “But I got your drugs back.”
“Fucking hell. Listen here…” He strides around the hood of the car. I take a stumbling step back, rocks skittering underfoot, and then he’s only a foot or two away. I look up, squinting against the glare of the sun to meet his shadowed eyes.
“You got our shit back, great, but now it’s ours and you have nothing.”