Page 32 of The Wrong Drive-
I crawl across the snow to his body, and then hesitate, the blood having melted the snow around him. I take a deep breath and then go for his pockets, fishing forsomething.
“You won’t find his phone,” I hear Turner from somewhere in the woods. “Or his gun.”
Because you took it,I think glancing up through the trees in the direction of where Turner disappeared. I try to breathe as I stand wearily to my feet, Gunner still sitting and watching me with curiosity. My legs tremble as I wipe the fresh tears from my face.
Should I make a run for it?The thought crosses my mind as I watch the distance grow between Turner and me. Internally, I know that it’s useless, but the desperation and…angerI feel toward Turner makes me want vengeance—or something. I don’t even knowhowto reason with what just happened.
It was to protect Gunner, maybe.Big maybe.
I grit my teeth as I trudge in the direction of Turner, my fists clenched and Gunner following me closely. As I break from the trees, I see Adam’s Jeep tearing through the now open gate. It’s equipped with snow chains and clearly, Turner knows how to drive in the snow. He stops inside the gate, and goes back, shutting and locking it.
He doesn’t even look in my direction as he climbs back in my dead ex-boyfriend’s car and roars past me, using acceleration and quick swerves to power around large drifts. I stand in knee deep snow, watching the Jeep until it disappears somewhere.
“What do I do?” I ask Gunner, batting away fresh tears. “I’m so fucked now.”
Gunner tilts his head at me, and then bounds off in the direction of Turner. The dog has no idea how big of a monster his master is—and if he does, he doesn’t care. My shoulders slump as I start after him, leaving Adam’s body in the cold. My mind replays the moments before Adam was killed, and the mixed emotions that follow are almost as horrifying as the death itself.
Adam was never thenicestboyfriend, but he wasn’t the worst, either. Sure, he got a little mouthy, but for fuck’s sake, he didn’t deserve to be shot in the head. He was doing his duty, coming to rescue me—and Turnershothim. My stomach lurches again as I crest the hill, seeing the barn door slid open. Turner hops in the Jeep and pulls into the barn.
And just like that, the Jeep is gone as soon as the door closes.
No one will find us out here.
I wrap my arms around myself as Turner steps through the walk-through door, freshly cleared. His face warmer is down around his neck, and at first, he doesn’t notice me. His expression is almost…grim.He runs a hand down his face, and then notices me, hardening his gaze.
“Go inside.” His words are eerily calm. In fact, he appears under the single pole light as fatigued as ever. “Go,” Turner repeats when I just stand there, watching him. His gesture toward the cabin gets me in motion. Every step feels heavy, numb, and I’m not sure if it’s the shock or the cold.
Maybe both.
I don’t say a word to him as I make my way to the cabin, lugging myself up the steps. I push open the door, the warmth burning my face. The scent of dinner still hangs in the air, and some soft tune still plays on my laptop. I let it keep playing as I shove off my shoes and head straight for the hearth.
Collapsing on the floor, I leave on my soaked jacket, jeans, and stare into the flames, licking up fresh heat—all the while Adam lays dead in the snow somewhere outside. I don’t know what Turner’s going to do with the body, but I hear a rumbling engine, reminding me of a tractor or some sort of equipment.
And then it hits me.
He could’ve dug me out with that… He could’ve let me go.
I squeeze my eyes shut as fresh tears spill down my cheeks, my nose and cheeks burning. Maybe the blizzard prevented him from letting me go, but now, there’s a murder. I’m a witness.
I’m never making it out of here.
Resting my forehead against my wet knees, I let the sobs break free from my chest. I heard once that letting yourself cry is sometimes a relief. Well, right now, it doesn’t feel like one to me. It only seems to emphasize theshittycards I’ve been dealt. But still, I let myself cry so hard I can’t breathe.
Until I hear the doorknob of the front door.
Then, I quiet myself, shutting down whatever feelings are beneath the surface. I don’t want Turner to know a damn thing I feel. Ever again. Healmosthad me. Healmostgot invited inside my walls to know me.
But now, I’m locking myself away.
And I don’t care if it gets me killed.
Chapter 13
Turner
Buryinga body in frozen ground is a fucking task. I don’t mark the guy’s grave when I’m finished. He doesn’t deserve it. I heard the way he spoke to Emersyn, and the way he went after my dog. Onmyproperty.
Sure, it was the heat of the moment. Sure, maybe I was trying to kill her five minutes prior in a blackout. But still. He had to go—and the blood spilled doesn’t really bother me. Not so long as I can justify it.
