Page 98 of Wrecked for Love
With a grunt, I heaved him up and shoved him into the trunk, his body disappearing from sight, hidden from discovery.
I adjusted the cap low over my brow, pulling The Revenants’ jacket tight around my waist. My own jacket was bunched up and shoved under the driver’s seat. Claire might need it later.
My fingers found a cigarette in the pack the man had left in his pocket. I hadn’t smoked in years, but I lit it up anyway. It was all part of the act. Leaning against the car, I adopted his posture and his slouch, mimicking his nonchalant smoking gesture as though it were second nature. At that moment, I wasn’t me—I was him. To any onlooker, nothing had changed at the Powerhouse watch.
Suddenly, a group stormed out of the house. I averted my gaze and bowed my head, though I knew precisely who was being ushered out.
Watching her being manhandled by figures clad in The Revenants’ jackets—mirror images of the uniform I’d stripped from their incapacitated driver—nearly undid me. She remainedpassive, her body limp in their unyielding grip, offering no resistance.
“Yo, Prince! Kill that smoke!” someone shouted my way. “You’re halfway to lung cancer already!”
I kept my head low, exhaling a thick cloud and trying to hide the fact that I’d forgotten how to puff like a pro. The brim of my cap cast a shadow over my face, keeping my cover intact. With a flick, the cigarette was gone.
Two men hauled Claire toward my car as the rest retreated back into the house, barking orders into the frigid air. Although commands echoed behind me, my focus narrowed on Claire, now just within arm’s reach, her proximity both a torment and a spur to action.
“Next stop, Princey. Stick to Plan A,” one of the men told me.
How I wished for the cover of darkness, but necessity demanded I adapt and execute in the light. I bowed my head as I opened the door for them, a hand brushing my face as if the snow had gotten to me—maintaining the disguise without overplaying it. One of the men circled around to the passenger seat while the other pushed Claire into the back.
Seizing the moment, I stepped forward, feigning assistance to shove Claire deeper into the vehicle. Under the guise of this maneuver, my gloved hand discreetly passed her the Ruger. Claire, ever perceptive, made no outward sign of acknowledgment, not even a hint of surprise. Instead, she subtly adjusted her position in the back seat, accepting the item with the stealth and compliance of one long prepared for such exchanges.
“Let’s go!” the man sitting in the passenger seat barked.
I eased onto the road, trying to mimic how I’d imagine a Revenant would drive. No one seemed to notice. A good sign.
Once we were safely out of sight of the rest of the gang, I pulled the car to the side of the road.
“What the fuck?” the man beside me exclaimed in confusion and alarm.
Without hesitation, I turned to face him, my movements decisive—no second or ounce of energy wasted.
“Not another word!” I growled, my voice a razor-sharp command as I trained the gun squarely on him. “Claire?”
“I’ve got him, Elia!”
I knew she would! Without even glancing, I could tell Claire had mirrored my actions. In a split second, I slammed my front passenger’s head onto the dashboard, rendering him unconscious. Almost in the same breath, I spun around to check on Claire. The man who had been flanking her found himself staring down the barrel of her Ruger. Her grip was steady, even amidst the chaos. He didn’t dare make a move.
Keeping my Glock trained on him, I slid into the backseat to help Claire out, then handled him, using his own scarf to tie his wrists.
In the distance, the sound of sirens began to swell, piercing through the stillness of the early morning. The moment I had confirmed Claire’s location, I called Logan to get the sheriff involved, urging him to liaise with his counterpart in Great Falls. I was betting this city hadn’t encountered a hardened criminal like Gideon Purcell before.
With the sirens growing louder, signaling the imminent arrival of the law, Claire and I stared at the helpless men in the car. I hadn’t mentioned the one in the trunk—it didn’t matter. After everything we’d endured, from the gritty makeshift ring inside The Cove to Saxum, this confrontation felt almost like child’s play. Our adversaries were unprepared for our resolve and coordination.
I winced as she wrapped me in a tight embrace. “Oooh…not so hard, not so hard, sweetheart,” I breathed out, holding back a groan.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She immediately pulled back, her fingers hovering as if her touch might add to the pain.
But the agony soon dulled as I craved the touch of her body. “It hurts, but it heals.” I pulled her close again. I needed her near. Those brief seconds of separation were too much.
With a huff, she snatched the cap off my head and tossed it aside. “What took you so long?”
“Sorry, babe. Had to turn back for my legs.”
“You look awful!” she told me straight, but a smile still escaped. She then tugged The Revenants jacket off my shoulders.
“Fashion statement,” I joked, shrugging it off. “But honestly—” I gestured to the familiar flannel of my lumberjack shirt, “—this is more my style. But look past it for now and see the man inside.”
She landed another kiss, more carefully this time. “I thought I’d lost you.”
