Page 38 of Seal My Fate

Headlights approach, moving fast, as we race out of the woods. I slow for a split second, already wondering if the car is friend or foe. What if he has an accomplice? What if we don’t—

BANG!

A burning sensation rips across my shoulder, but there’s no time to stop, or even think. I power ahead, pulling Wren behind me as I scramble up the bank and hurl myself onto the road in front of the oncoming car—

“Stop!” I scream, throwing up my hands against the blinding glare of the headlights. For a terrible moment, I think I’m too late, and the car won’t stop in time, but then the brakes screech in protest, and the car fishtails to a stop.

The driver leaps out. It’s Saint.

Oh, thank God.

“Tess!” He rushes over to us, grabbing Wren before she falls. “What happened? Are you alright—”

“There’s no time, he’s coming!” I blurt, “He’s got a gun!”

Saint’s face changes. “Get in the car,” he orders, and then I see, he’s got one too: A small black handgun that he pulls from his waistband. “Now!”

BANG! Another bullet whistles past us, and I see the dark shadow of the masked man emerge from the tree line.

Saint fires back, a burst of bullets that sends the gunman diving back behind the cover of the trees. He backs towards the car, still firing. “Come on!”

Wren piles into the backseat, and I grab shotgun position, as Saint lets out a final ricochet of shots. Then he hurls himself behind the wheel and guns the engine. “Are you hurt?” he demands, as we drive away, tires screeching. “Tessa, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I answer automatically, my heart still pounding. I look over at him, overwhelmed with love. “I knew you’d come. I knew if we could just hold on long enough…”

His face changes. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” I look down and see blood soaking my sweatshirt arm.

“Tessa, did he hit you? Were you shot?” Saint’s voice echoes louder, wild with panic. He reaches over, the car swerving dangerously as he tries to check me.

“Saint!” Wren yells, leaning forward. “You’re going to kill us all. Eyes on the road. I’ll take care of her.”

Saint curses, driving fast down the winding country lanes as Wren helps me take off my sweatshirt. “It doesn’t hurt much,” I report.

“That’s the adrenaline talking, you’ll feel it soon enough.” Wren checks the wound, blotting the blood away. “It’s just a graze,” she reports back. “The bullet barely touched her. Some bandages and antiseptic, and she’ll be fine. Everything’s OK.”

Everything’s OK…

I sit there in the passenger seat, shaking with relief and shock. I grip Wren’s hand tightly; I can’t believe I came so close to losing her again.

To losing everything—including my life.

Chapter10

Saint

I’m so furious, I can barely see straight. I speed back to London with my knuckles white against the steering wheel, and then carry Tessa into the house—despite her futile protests.

“I can walk fine! Wren’s the one who needs help—”

“—I don’t,” her sister speaks up, as I deposit Tessa on the couch, then immediately go to arm the security system. Alarms, cameras… Fuck, where’s a surface-to-air ground launcher missile when you need one?

I could have lost her.

If I’d driven down a hair slower, if the bullet had been two inches to the right…

“I’m OK, Saint,” Tessa insists, when I rejoin them, and press a first aid kit into Wren’s hands. Her sister sets to work cleaning her wound—her fucking gunshot wound—and then bandaging it up, while Tessa huffs and sighs. She’s still pale and shaking from their escape, with dirt on her face and twigs in her hair, but she’s still her usual stubborn self all the same. “See?” she crows, showing me her shoulder. “It’s just a scratch!”

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