Page 256 of Quinlan

“Leave.” With a finger pointed toward the road, I start pulling the door handle. I run faster. I don’t need them there. Don’t want them there.

No one’s going to see Quinlan first. No one’s going to deliver us the bad news. No one’s going to save her but us.

Faintly, I hear footsteps behind me in the dark street.

Could’ve been elephants stomping the street for all I care.

I seeher.

I’m at the rear door and my goddamn heart is in my throat. A dull thud comes from there. A shoe beats against the window.

Her shoe.

I’d recognize her sneakers anywhere. I memorized every item in her closet. Every detail about her has been ingrained in my mind.

Into my heart.

Again, again, again. She’s alive. She’s fighting.

Withtheminside there next to her.

They might be conscious. They might be touching her. Hurting her. Trying to kill her while she’s trapped inside.

“We’re here,” I say. I whisper. I shout. Who knows.

What matters is that I grab the door handle.

“Quinlan.” Damien’s at my side, punching the window with his bare fist while I yank on the handle over and over and over.

Rome’s at the front side, landing his own set of furious blows to the passenger window after the handle gets him nowhere. The glass cracks faster for him.

Good. Good. Thank God for Rome. It’s as though he’s been anticipating this. Like he’s practiced his entire life anticipating this moment.

He won’t hurt himself in his attempts to get to Quinlan. He won’t, because he was made for this. He’ll do it before Damien will break a bone trying. She’ll be fine.

“Quinlan,” he shouts. The glass fractures first. I hear it crack, then bash in. Rome pushes his head in, reaches his arm inside. “Sweetheart. There you are. Come here. Can you take my hand?”

I throw the side of my body on the door. The damned thing is scrunched. With enough force, it could relent. I could help her if she can’t get to Rome.

“Rome,” Quinlan screams. Laughs. She fuckinglaughs. “I did it. I knocked them out. They’re out cold. Ha!”

The logical thing would’ve been to let Rome come over and break this window for us.

We’re past logic. Past common sense. The three of us.

And she’slaughing.

“Good girl. My good girl. I’m coming for you.” The upper half of Rome’s body disappears into the car, his suit jacket tearing on the broken window.

“I have you.” His fingers wrap around her shin; I see it from my place in the street. “I have you, sweetheart. Come on, we’re getting you out of here.”

He wouldn’t be able to pull her out like that. Any other day, he’d be aware of that. Not today. Not with panic and adrenaline taking over him. Over the three of us.

“I’m trying.”

“Are you getting the door?” Maybe he does see reason. Some. His hand doesn’t leave Quinlan, though.

“Yes.” The damn window cracks for Damien.

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