Page 124 of Boy of Ruin
Not like this.
“Maverick,” I whisper, closing my eyes tight, slamming my palms into the cage. The sound rings out in the forest, but Jeremiah’s head is against the wires now, and he’s not here. I know he isn’t dead, or they wouldn’t have bothered to bind him, but even still…he always ends up fucked.
We always end up fucked.
I’m sick of it.
“Maverick, what are you going to do?”
Mav’s hand comes to my mouth, running across my swollen lip, silencing me with a gentle touch.
“We just need to ask him some questions,” he whispers.
Goosebumps run down my arms, the little hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “About?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed, my fingers clenched tight around the metal bars.
“Someone has been hunting down the 6,” Maverick confesses, and my eyes fly open, staring at Jeremiah’s motionless body. Mav pulls me tighter against his hard chest. “You, too.”
I shake my head. “He wouldn’t work with anyone that would hurt me—”
“I don’t think there’s anything in the world Jeremiah Rain wouldn’t do. Not if he got you in the end, Angel.”
The silence in the truck is deafening, even though it isn’t actually fucking silent. My pulse throbs in my head, the windows are cracked and Send The Pain Below by Chevelle is playing way too loud as Mav drives, one hand on the wheel, the other on the gear shift even though there’s no fucking shifting gears in this thing. I hate trucks, and we had to borrow this one from the 6’s fleet of them for the fucking garbage we have in the bed of it.
And Sid is in here.
My wife is mute behind me, making this feel like what it isn’t. Silent.
I have a cigarette between my fingers, unlit, and I’m flicking the lighter with my other hand, staring straight ahead at the desolate highway, the darkness seeming to cave in on both sides of me.
We’ve got about an hour before we get back to Alexandria and I’m itching to get the fuck out of this truck. Cain is driving my car back, and I should’ve just gone with him.
I don’t want to smell her.
I don’t want to see her.
I don’t want to fucking think about what she did.
But there’s going to be a surprise back at my house, where she’s staying whether she likes it or not, and that thought brings a smile to my face.
“Cut that shit out,” Mav growls, glancing at the lighter in my hands.
My jaw is throbbing from where he hit me, and I think I’ve got a fucking split lip too, not to mention the cut where Sid knifed me.
Mav’s protective big brother bullshit makes me want to break his spine. “I’m sorry, is the flame distracting, Mav?” I keep thumbing the dented ridge of the lighter, and he slams his hand on the wheel, the truck veering to the median for half a second before he straightens it.
“Yes,” he grits out. “Now cut it out.”
I laugh, shaking my head, but I slip the lighter into the pocket of my pants, running my hand over my thigh, digging my fingers into my skin. I need to get out of this truck.
I need to get away from my fucking wife or I’m going to hurt her. I already did.
But what she said to me…she’s lying. She has to be fucking lying.
“Where are we going?”
Her voice makes me tense, my entire body going rigid in my seat as I lean my head back against it, closing my eyes. Trying not to lose my goddamn mind.
She’s so close.
