Page 70 of Better Run
“Procrastinating won’t make it go away.” His voice is softer, almost kind.
I glare at him.
His gaze doesn’t waver. He takes me down to the truck and sits beside me in the back seat. I’m fully shaking now. And that makes me angry.
Cole rubs my thigh. “He’s not going to hurt you, little one.”
I whip my head around and stare at his hand. The same hand that made me come just a little bit ago. I snap my gaze up to his. “Why do I need to be drugged for this, Cole? And my name is Jo.”
There’s hardness in his eyes. “Why do you care about her so much?”
“What?” My mouth drops open.
“Sage. You don’t even know her.”
“I don’t need to know her to know you shouldn’t hurt her.”
“I won’t. Jayden will.”
I rear back.
“But that’s beside the point.” He leans into me. “Why. Do. You. Care?” His gaze searches mine.
I look away.
“It’s not your fault.” Cole gently grabs my chin. He moves it, so I’m looking at him again. I close my eyes.
“Hey.” He flicks my nose, and I open my eyes in surprise. “This is on Jayden. Not you.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl. “Let me go. Just let me go.”
He leans back, and the wall falls fully in front of his eyes. “Strap in.”
I think about clawing my way out of the car. Cole doesn’t wait. He pushes me back into the seat, reaches across me, and straps me in. He sits so close to me that his thigh presses into mine. I stare straight ahead.
Something thumps in the back of the truck, and then Jayden gets into the driver’s seat. I barely glance at him, just staring at the headrest of the seat in front of me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Jayden
I’ve been avoiding this. Not because I’m afraid to kill or because I have feelings for Sage. Those parts of my soul died a long time ago. But because I hate to acknowledge that deep, gut-wrenching loss again. It’s always there, but recently it’s eased. Just being around Jo has calmed my soul, and I keep avoiding ruining that. Grasping onto that small level of peace like it’ll save me. I knew I should have acted when I had that nightmare in front of her. Instead, I just sank further into her, pretending like she, Cole, and I were the only ones to exist.
But it’s time. I’ve started to put her in jeopardy of being found by the cops. Even the thought sends me into a rage toward myself and the cops. I put her in this spot. And I don’t like to admit that it scares me.
I drive them to the abandoned house. It’s where Cole and I killed Pat, so it’s only fitting. Our kitten sits quietly in the back seat. She stares at nothing, her hands clasped in her lap.
I recognize that look. Cole and I had it many times when we were young. It sends a pang of pain through me, immediately followed by anger and helplessness.
I slam my door and wrench hers open. She jumps a little. I unstrap her, grab her by her neck, and yank her out of the car. She gasps as I slam her into the side of the truck.
She looks at me. I give her a mocking smile.
Her blue eyes flare with hate.
Good. There she is again. She needs to hold onto something, and if it’s hate, so be it. I smirk and shove her toward the house. Cole follows behind her. He knows where to take her.
Sage is still bound in the back of my truck. I put a coat and pants on her and bound her with scarves so she wouldn’t have rub marks on her wrists and ankles. Just in case the cops find her before her body gets beyond recognition.
