Page 3 of Fervent

He expelled a breath an instant before he pressed his mouth to mine. Parting my lips, he thrust his tongue inside and dueled me into surrender. One hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back, allowing him a deeper possession of my mouth. We both moaned, a sorrowful sound of desperation laced with need, maybe even hope.

Except hope was a sword that would slice us into pieces if we let it.

The frantic slide of his tongue speared through me with a delirious ache, and I whimpered. Everything fell away; the scars on my body, the coffin-like space that held us prisoner, the loss of his memory—it all vanished in the fray of our need for each other. Eventually, we severed the connection but hovered inches apart, our choppy breaths blending with the sound of the road beneath us.

Then the car slowed and the brake lights cast his face in eerie red. My pulse, already galloping from his kiss, took off in a sprint. “I love you, Rafe.”

“Don’t you dare say goodbye to me yet.” His brows furrowed, and I couldn’t resist running my thumb over one.

The car turned and we swayed with the motion. I held my breath, only letting it out after the vehicle regained speed. We clutched each other, awaiting the inevitable confrontation that would come when the tires stopped spinning. Time was lost to the lull of the road, distorted in every brake and turn. The wheels slowed to a crawl on rough ground, bouncing over potholes and ridges.

We lurched, hitting a particularly bad spot, and I cried out his name then pressed my lips to his again, wishing I could freeze this moment. I could live my life in this trunk with him, our bodies entwined, mouths fused, and find peace.

But that was impossible. We rolled to a stop and the rumble of the engine fell silent. Blackness and fear coiled around us as our fate hung on a thread. Heavy steps rounded the side of the car, and someone jingled a set of keys.

“I want you to run, Alex. When I tell you to go, don’t even hesitate.”

With a nod, I swallowed and managed to squeak my agreement, but deep down, I knew.

I’d die before leaving him to face this alone.

Whatever they’d given me still blazed in my veins, stealing control of my body and fucking with my ability to protect her. The situation pressed on me like a thick slab of steel. My head felt woozy from whatever concoction they’d pumped into me, and my limbs were as useless as the tentacles of a jellyfish. I knew the odds weren’t in our favor. We were about to face off a group of men intending to…fuck, I didn’t know what they wanted, but I doubted they’d taken us to shoot the breeze.

The explosion on my father’s island was a continuous echo in my ears, but thinking about the flames that ate away at my childhood memories, turning them to ash, would get us nowhere. I couldn’t control what had happened. I could only control now, this moment and the next to come, and I’d be damned if I let Alex suffer without putting up the fight from hell.

The trunk popped open, and Alex clung to me with desperate hands, her face buried in my shoulder as she breathed, “Oh God,” against my skin. Her terror raged through me, her tiny frame shaking in my arms.

Yet I knew she was stronger than me.

She had to be, to have survived so much and still have a heartbeat. I cursed God, fate, the universe—even the ball of dirt gravity glued us to—for dropping her into another horrifying situation. Had she not been through enough?

“Promise me,” I whispered again, the plea lost in her hair, though I knew she heard because she held on tighter.

And that’s when I knew. She wasn’t going to run.

Because she was strong. Stubborn. Loyal.

Because she loved me.

The lid of the trunk creaked and cool air hit my back an instant before the barrel of what I assumed was a gun pressed into my spine.

“Get out slow and no one will get hurt.”

The guy at the other end of the weapon backed off, and someone snorted, barely covering their muttered, “yet.”

Reluctantly, I freed Alex from the cage of my arms and turned in the confined space. Trees obscured the moon, and shadows hid the men’s features, though their hatred poisoned the atmosphere and spiraled around me like a tangible entity. Only one held a gun, and he had it locked on me with relentless force.

Had I miscalculated the number of men on the island?

“Don’t have all night, Mason. Get out.”

I grasped the edge of the opening and hefted myself up, biceps flexing under the strain, and crawled from the trunk. One foot then the other touched the ground, and rough earth gouged the soles of my feet. A chilly breeze whispered through the trees. Even July brought cold nights with it.

“Hands up.”

Raising my arms, I took stock of the situation. Three men, one gun, and the isolation blared its silence, save for the tumultuous chirp of crickets. I glanced at the sky, expecting to see the same galaxy of stars visible from the island, but the sky was faded, as if the glare from the city had snuffed out the brightness.

Considering the amount of time we’d spent in the trunk, I guessed they’d taken us close to Portland.

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