Page 86 of The Twilight Theft

Chapter 34

Jayce

You’reintrouble.Conveyintel.

“He’s—” I started.

But he yanked out my earpiece before I could say more.

I tried pivoting under his arm, but I planted my foot in a puddle and slipped.

Something slammed into my left knee.

A scream ripped through me as I crumpled. Pain ricocheted through every cell in my body.

“Jayce!” Drew’s yell from below barely registered.

Spots clouded my vision and I curled up, trying to protect my bad leg from the next blow.

“It had to be you, didn’t it?” Wyatt’s smooth Texas drawl had vanished. He dropped the earpiece and smashed it under his heel. “The big guy, I could have handled. Hell, I wouldn’t have even felt too bad if it were Drew chasing me down.”

“Jayce!” shouted Drew again.

“Tell him you’re all right.” Wyatt knelt in front of me, just out of reach. “Tell him you tripped, is all.”

I blinked hard against the tears streaming down my face. A million knives slashed through my leg. I shook my head at him, stifling a sob.

He touched my leg and I flinched, but the touch was gentle. “I am so sorry, Jayce. This wasn’t how I hoped things would go.”

I had to delay him. How? Scarlett and Emmett were the conversationalists, not me. I just talked and rambled.

Wyatt bowed his head and sighed. “I was serious last night.”

“Which part?”

“When I told you I wanted to run away and start over fresh. How I needed a strong woman at my side. You remember that?”

“I remember.” How long did I have until the crew burst through the door? “You told me about your grandmother.”

“She would have liked you.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “I can take you with me.”

“Jayce!” yelled Drew again. This time, it came from behind the bulkhead door and was accompanied by a body slamming into it. “Tell me you’re okay!”

Wyatt looked over his shoulder and shook his head. “I need you to tell him you’re all right or I’m afraid he’ll actually break that door down—despite the barricade bar I added this afternoon.”

No wonder Rav and Marc couldn’t break through.

I pushed up to sitting, grimacing with every millimeter my leg moved. On the ground next to the bulkhead, where Drew was pounding against the inside of the door, sat the soccer-ball-sized dragonfly head. How did he get it off without making a racket?

What was the smart play? Do what he said? Play dumb?

My head throbbed from the pain coursing through my leg. “Why are you still here? Why haven’t you run?”

A body collided with the door again.

“You told me there wasn’t anything going on between you and him?”

“There’s not.”

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