Page 55 of Endless Love

The way he hisses my name cuts through the daze. I nod weakly, trying to gather myself.I must be going into shock. This must be what that feels like.

“Can you move?” Ivan asks, his voice tight with worry. “Can I move you? Do you need help?”

It occurs to me that if Lev isn’t dead, we need to get out of here sooner rather than later. Not to mention the fact that Bradley wasn’t far behind us, and he saw our car. This accident might attract his attention shortly. I shift in the cramped space, careful of broken glass, trying to test my limbs as much as I’m able. “I think so,” I whisper. “I mean—I think I can get out.”

An inch at a time, Ivan helps me crawl out of the wreckage. I see him wince when I hiss with pain, tears leaking out of the corner of my eyes. My palm scrapes over broken glass, and I cry out. The instant he hears the sound, his muscled arms go around me, pulling me free the rest of the way as he helps me to my feet in the bloodied grass.

The world tilts alarmingly around me, and I sway in place, grabbing at the front of his shirt. I feel him tense at my touch, sucking in a breath, but I’m too aware of what I’m looking at, at this moment to think too much about what that means.

“Easy,” Ivan murmurs, his arm around my waist. His gaze sweeps over me, looking for anything broken, anything that—I assume—might mean I can’t run. “We need to go, Charlotte. Right now.”

I swallow hard as I look at Niki’s unmoving body, facedown in the grass. At Lev, on his back, staring up at the sky, or?—

I think I see him move, shifting, and I swear I hear him groan.

Maybe I’m imagining things.But it’s enough for me to twist away, starting to hobble past the car. I see another body, Ivan’s other brother, and I can’t tell if he’s alive or dead. I don’t think Iwantto know.

“There’s a gas station just up the road,” Ivan says grimly, his arm still around my waist as he urges me to go faster. “We need to get there. I saw a sign?—”

“But what about the people—” I start to ask, but he cuts me off.

“People have cars,” he says shortly. “And we need a car.”

I’m too breathless already from the pain to ask any more questions, or think too hard about what he means. I think Iknowwhat he means, anyway, and it feels like one thing too many right now.

We’re going to have to steal another car. And we’re going to do it like this.

We stumble away from the car, my legs feeling as if they’ve been dipped in lead, every step sending more of those white-hot jolts of pain through my body, piercing the fog. Ivan is supporting most of my weight as we half run, half stumble towards the road, staying slightly off the shoulder as Ivan leads me towards the gas station in the distance. I can see the lights flickering on, like a beacon in the darkness gathering around us.

“We’re almost there,” Ivan murmurs, his voice sounding strained. He’s tense, every muscle in his body wound tight, and I can feel it radiating off of him. He’s looking around constantly, glancing back every few feet as if he expects Lev to materialize behind us, chasing us down.

Except at this point, I don’t think Lev would chase. I think he would just shoot us. Maybe even me. I think I might have become more of a problem than whatever value I have allows. And anyway, Ivan once said that they wanted me to get back at him. To hurt him by hurting me. If he’s dead, that doesn’t matter.

The thought feels so boldly foreign that it makes me almost laugh, the sound bitterly choking in my throat. It catches, and I see Ivan glance at me worriedly out of the corner of my eye.

He probably thinks I’m losing it. Maybe Iamlosing it.What I’ve been through in the last several days would test anyone. Especially when it’s so far out of the realm of anything I ever imagined my life turning out to be.

I can barely even think about what’s ahead of us. All I can think about is what’s behind—the wrecked car, the bodies, the smeared blood turning the grass red. It feels wholly surreal, like a nightmare I can’t wake up from, like a story in someone else’s life. I keep seeing the wash of red as Niki’s head opened up, the look on Lev’s face as he pointed the gun at Ivan, the fact that it didn’t seem to matter to Lev at all that one of his brothers was dead in front of him. That all three of them might have been about to be.

But then again, to hear Ivan describe it, he never cared about any of them. Their deaths would just mean that their father couldn’t hang his possible replacements over his head any longer. He would be the only heir, his place unchallenged.

My head swims, trying to make sense of it all—a world that makes absolutelynosense to me.

There are three cars at the gas pumps when the station comes fully into view. Two are turned off, empty, their owners clearly inside paying. The third, a black Subaru, is also off, but the driver is standing next to it, about to hit the button on the pump to start filling the tank.

“Ivan—” I start to speak, but he shakes his head sharply.

“We need a car, Charlotte.” The finality in his voice feels like a slap. He sounds cold, harsh. But he’s right.

We won’t get far without a vehicle. And much like the difference between knowing Ivan has killed and seeing it today, I’m only really more upset about this because I’m seeing the reality of it up close. I can admit that, at least.

I swallow hard, feeling as if I might throw up as we move closer, around the back of the unsuspecting man at the pump. The fact that it’s a man makes me feel only slightly better—it might be wrong, but it would feel worse to see Ivan threaten a woman.

The man, an older fellow with a round, florid face and thinning hair, dressed in jeans and a Trans-Am t-shirt, turns at the sound of our footsteps. His face creases instantly as he takes in our battered appearance, caution and worry warring for primacy on his face.

He sets the nozzle back in the pump, hesitation evident in his movements. But his better nature seems to win out, which only makes me feel worse.

“You two alright?” he asks, his gaze sweeping over us, and Ivan’s hand slips to the edge of his shirt, where I know his gun is tucked. My heart trips in my chest.Please don’t shoot this man.

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