Page 28 of Fire Bound

Letting out a breath between my clenched teeth, I ask, “Did you tell anyone other than Ransom what happened?”

Isabeau walks the various skid marks left along the dark road, like she’s replaying the events that happened in her head. She’s so skilled at things like this I’m sure she can tell the second I lost control of my car. She stops at the edge of the road and looks down at the heap of metal that was once a car. “I just told Ransom,” she finally answers.

“Thank God,” I mumble, wiping the blood off my chin with my hand. “I don’t need any more of my family showing up here tonight. I can’t deal with their concerned stares and patronizing words. My mom will probably—”

She cuts me off, “Remington.” Beau turns around and shakes her head tightly. “I saidIdidn’t tell anyone else.”

Understanding dawns on me after a second. “Oh.” I grimace. “Ransom called them.”

“Yes,” she admits. “We’re the fastest, that’s why we’re here before the rest.”

I probably only have minutes before everyone shows up in full force. The little voice in my head whispers for me to run, that I still have time to get away, but truthfully, I’m tired. I’m tired from running from my problems and running from my family. The problem is, I know if I stop now, I’ll have to face what’s happened head-on and I’m not sure I’ll be able to survive that. It’s either I keep running or feel the pain I’ve worked so hard to avoid. Neither option feels ideal.

Shifting to the edge of the road, I stare down at the carnage of my car. I felt sober enough while driving, but if I hadn’t been drinking, would I have had faster reflexes? Could I have avoided all of this by getting away from them sooner? If I hadn’t been partying, maybe I would have noticed them watching me at the bar to begin with.

I could have died tonight.

Not just tonight. All the reckless choices I’ve been making lately have put me in danger. I’m willingly putting myself in positions where anything could happen to me. The amount of alcohol I’ve been consuming dulls the pain, but it also eliminates any sense of right and wrong. All those nights I drank so much I blacked out, anyone could have taken advantage of my state. I was foolish to think that Sterling wouldn’t be watching all of us. I might not be one of the heavy hitters, but I’m associated with them. Of course, he’d still been watching me. He’s watching all of us.

What have I been thinking?

I don’t realize I’ve said those words aloud until Beau, without turning her head, simply says, “You haven’t been. You’re afraid if you do think, you’re going to feel and you’re trying your damnedest to not do that.” Annoyingly observant as always. Both Winslow and Beau have an eerie way of knowing things that have never been admitted aloud. “Just remember when you refuse to feel anything, you’re not only depriving yourself of pain, but also the good.”

“Nothing has felt good in a really long time,” I tell her, even though it’s a lie. Being with Jax the other night felt good. For those few moments that I let go of the hurt and the anger, I felt good. My whole body felt at peace being in his presence even though I know it shouldn’t have. The reprieve was short, but nonetheless, it felt good.

Beau finally turns and looks at me, but my eyes remain fixed on the flickering headlight of my car. “We’re not close. That’s partially my fault since I’m new to having a family or friends. I don’t know how to be there for someone, but I can be there for you. You can tell me what happened. You can tell me what happened when Gage died.”

My stomach pits out, the memories of that day filling my head. The visual of Gage fighting off rogue wolves and thirsty vampires. The way his eyes cut to mine when he realized he was losing…

No!

Closing my eyes tight, I fight to clear my head of him. “Nothinghappened. Just like the others, he died in the battle. He was the head enforcer of this pack. It was his job to protect his pack and he died doing his job.” If I tell the lie enough, will I start to believe it myself? “He was a hero.” I might throw up.

“Remi—”

“I’ll be right back,” I announce, cutting her off. “I’m going to go grab my purse and phone from the car before everyone shows up.” I want to be ready to leave as fast as possible.

I clamber back down the hill, the soles of my boots only slipping once in the mud. My eyes burn as tears threaten to fall. I don’t want to cry here. I’m afraid if I start, I’ll never stop. It’s already going to be bad having my whole family show up here, I don’t need them to see my tears. No, I reserve those for at night when no one can see them. I let them fall freely into my pillow.

Swallowing hard, I stuff the emotions back down where I need them to stay for just a little while longer.

Not wanting to be too close to the wreckage for too long, I make quick work of searching for my purse. Everything in it is replaceable, but I needed an excuse to walk away from the observant vampire. On my hands and knees, I peer through the open windows of my upside-down car. Glass digs into the palms of my hands making me wince and yank my hand away.

The familiar black leather strap of my purse catches my eye. Reaching through the open window, I try my best to grab it, but my arm is too short. Pulling back, I sit on my heels and think about my next moves. It’srightthere and I’ve come this far already. I’m committed now.

Ducking low so I can fit through the window, I shimmy my head and torso into the remains of the car. My lips lift in a triumphant smile when my fingers wrap around the leather handle of the purse, but the smile instantly disappears when the scent of smoke fills the cabin of the car. My head snaps in the direction of where my engine sits, and I discover bright orange flames building.

Oh no.

Istand in front of the wall, staring at all the pictures and documents I’ve taped up there while collecting information on Sterling. Most of it is the same information that’s at Beau’s house on her bulletin board, but I like to have my own copies. When I can’t sleep at night, which is something that happens a lot, I stare at the pieces of paper, hoping I’ll miraculously piece something together that we’ve missed before.

It’s yet to happen but that hasn’t stopped me so far.

In the middle of all the photographs of known locations, and people Sterling is affiliated with is a dark silhouette of a man with a red question mark on his face. Both Isabeau and I know what Sterling looks like, but we’ve yet to obtain a picture of him ourselves. It doesn’t matter that it’s been sixteen years since I laid eyes on the man, I would recognize him anywhere. His image is ingrained in my brain like an ugly tattoo. Or a scar. A scar would be more fitting since he left me with many, and I returned the favor.

I may not have inherited Sterling’s looks, but I inherited his drive. He’s stopped at nothing to accomplish his goal. His desire to create the perfect being has become an obsession. His goal is perfection. Each species has a weakness, and he wants to counteract or get rid of them entirely. Isabeau, for instance, her fae blood allows her to be in the sun, regardless of her vampire genes. I’m immune to the effects of silver that would usually harm my wolf side because of my demon genetics. The small amount of warlock blood in my system makes me resistant to most spells and witchcraft. Winslow is part necromancer, but her witch side counteracts the darkness necromancers carry with them.

He has, what we call, breeding facilities, all over North America. They’re full of women he took. Just like my mother, they’re forced to carry these so-called ‘perfect’ embryos, and just like my mother, when they’re no longer able to carry these babies to term, they’re terminated.

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