Page 42 of King of Malice

“Don’t try it. I’m your only chance at getting out of here.”

“So you’ve already told me.” Her lower lip quivered but she nodded, carefully easing onto the window frame. While it wasn’t a significant drop, the slope as well as the twisted metal would be dangerous for her.

“Come on, Whitney. Just jump.”

She glared at me with a sense of hatred and denial, likely hating herself for trusting me as much as he had. When she was in position, I held out my arms. The sound of approaching vehicles dragged another snarl from my throat. As she jumped, the ugly emergency lighting from the car behind us accentuated her piercing eyes. I caught her easily and having her in my arms was enough to stir several feelings.

Sadly, the desire would need to wait. Every muscle in my body was tense, coiled in a way that meant I was ready to strike. My captured beauty was vulnerable, an innocent flower in a sea of vipers. In spending limited time with her, I’d discovered more about myself than I would dare admit to anyone.

She’d grabbed me by the balls, refusing to let go, daring me to be a better version of myself.

Where she was purity personified, I was chaos and fury, a man disgruntled from years of violence. The last humanity left inside of me could easily see that she didn’t deserve the hand of fate she’d been dealt, but the monster had already claimed her as his own.

That meant her life would never be the same.

Remorse didn’t look good on me, nor was it able to chip away at the rage that had built up over time. I was no guardian of the innocent, the brutality of my life preventing me from doing so, but as I’d already discovered, with her everything was different. She was the light to my darkness, as if basking in the way the sun glistened in her hair, I could become a better man.

That wasn’t possible. I’d sold my soul to the devil just after puberty.

I took her by the hand, forcing her to run. We passed debris and those injured from the blast, a stark reminder that I couldn’t shield her from my life. I would ruin her.

Unfortunately for her, Whitney had already become a tormenter of my dreams. That didn’t bode well for what was necessary, including interrogating her further.

“Where are we going?” she asked from behind me.

“Back to St. Louis for now.” Maybe she was resolved that trusting me was her only option. As I pulled her away from the tragedy, she remained silent, struggling to try to wend her way through the twisted debris.

The train wreck was significant, the loss of life undetermined. I tried to shield her from the bloodshed, darting through an open space just as several police cars and fire engines roared over the terrain. As other vehicles rushed through the haze, at least a dozen, we were quickly lost in the crowd of people rushing from the train.

“Aren’t we going to help people get to safety?” she asked, trying to jerk me to a stop.

“Do you really want to take the time to save lives while risking your own?”

“You’re a horrible man.”

“That’s already been established.” Several other vehicles including two ambulances whizzed by us. While I’d yet to see a single civilian car or truck, there was no doubt it was only a matter of time. I weaved us through the crowd, several groups of people already heading toward the smaller town. Others were rushing toward us in their attempt to provide assistance. I had a feeling within minutes the press would be crawling through the wreckage, longing for their fifteen minutes of fame.

She remained quiet as we jogged away from the scene, her fingers latched around mine. Her breathing was ragged, her nerves already getting the better of her. She looked back only once, the agony on her face no longer pulling at the limited sanctity inside of me. My goal was simple. Hide until I could get us the hell out of here.

At least twenty minutes had passed and I sensed she was getting weaker. I’d noticed some blood, which meant she’d been injured. The thought added to the fury. Once we reached the outskirts of the city, I pulled us down a side street, constantly searching for any unwanted visitors. The area was commercial, very few businesses opened. That was both good and bad, leaving us with few places to hide.

I backed us against a building into the darkness, taking out my phone.

“Calling the cavalry?” she asked sarcastically.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m doing.” I rubbed my eyes, taking several deep breaths before calling Constantine.

“That was quick,” he stated flatly.

“Yeah, well, the fucker decided to turn the train ride into a pyrotechnics show.”

He huffed. “You have trouble following you everywhere. Where are you?”

When I didn’t see an obvious street sign, I dragged her to the end of the block. “Corner of Watkins and Cavalier.”

“Bad part of town. Watch yourself. It’ll take me another thirty minutes to get where you are. The plane is fueled.” Constantine wasn’t the kind of man to mince words.

“I’ll stay close, but I need to get us behind closed doors,” I told him, yanking us toward the closest building when I noticed headlights. The dim lighting of the single pole light twenty feet away allowed me to see fear in her eyes as I pulled her closer. Even her bottom lip was trembling, yet her hands clutched my shirt.

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