“I can’t fit through there.”
“Give me a break. You weigh, like, two pounds.”
I rolled onto my knees and glanced through the window at the road. We were headed down into Abo Canyon. “We have to get him to a hospital,” I said, panic threading through my words. “Where are we going?”
“Lorelei, please. If you’ll just get up here, I’ll explain what I can.”
“No. Where are we going first?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said with an irritated sigh. His hands, stained with the dark reds of human blood, tightened on the wheel.
“Cameron, just turn around. He could die.”
He frowned into the rearview mirror at me. “It’ll take a lot more than that to kill it.” He looked back at the road, his brows kneading in thought. “I may have to use a chain saw.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Good thing I wasn’t kidding, then.” He checked his side-view mirror. “Damn it.”
“What?” I looked out the back glass as an eighteen-wheeler bore down on us, so close that all I could see was its chrome grille. The steep grade of the canyon made it difficult for trucks to maneuver through its twists and turns.
“Nothing like a rectal exam by an eighteen-wheeler.”
“Cameron, turn around,” I said, searching the area for a place to pull over. There just wasn’t one, and wouldn’t be for a few miles.
“Look, as soon as we get out of the canyon, I’ll explain, okay? I have to get you to a safe place.”
“Me?” I asked, stunned. “Why me? What’s this all about?”
I glanced over my shoulder. The eighteen-wheeler was struggling with its speed, but it did manage to back off a few feet.
“Would you just quit arguing and get up here?”
I looked down at Jared. Blood had pooled on the blanket beneath his chin. “He’s bleeding really bad.”
“Yeah, that was kind of the idea when I hit him with that board.”
Exasperated, I leaned in through the window to look at him point-blank. He concentrated on the road, but slanted his eyes toward me as I came into his peripheral vision.
He was an absolute mess. His blond hair hung in clumps caked with blood. Scratches and cuts and some rather impressive bruises covered his swollen face. His mouth bled from a deep gash in the corner, as did his right eye.
I had to reason with him. I needed answers, and Jared needed a hospital. “Cameron,” I said, my voice pleading, “why is this happening? Why are you and Jared so strong? Why are you trying to kill each other? And what does any of this have to do with me?”
He squeezed the steering wheel as though uncomfortable with my proximity. After wiping his face across a shoulder, he turned away to look down the side of the mountain. We were coming off the grade. The ground leveled and the truck backed off even more.
As I waited for a response, some kind of explanation, I heard Jared moan again. Before I could ease back into the bed, Cameron reached over with lightning-quick speed and grabbed my arm.
“Gotcha,” he said as he tried to drag me into the cab.
But Jared had grabbed me also. He had hold of my leg and clearly had no intention of letting go. As they played tug-of-war with my body, the thin metal strip along the ledge of the sliding glass window cut into my ribs. A searing pain slashed through me.
I screamed and used my free hand to try to push myself up off the ledge. “Cameron, let go!”
He hesitated, worked his jaw, then finally let go and scanned the area for a place to pull over. In the meantime, Jared jerked me through the small portal. I landed on top of him and gasped as he clutched a fistful of hair at the back of my head. He wrapped a steel-like arm around my waist to lock me to him then eyed me with something disturbingly similar to hatred.
“What did you do to me?” His voice was harsh, raspy. He looked scared, like a little boy lost and alone—and pissed as Hell because of it.
His arm was like a metal vise, making it almost impossible to breathe. I pushed against him, gasped for air. But the more I struggled, the tighter the vise’s crushing hold became.
I cried out in pain for a second time. Lack of oxygen sent the world spinning around me.
I heard Cameron call to me. “Lorelei, hold on!”
Jared wound his fist deeper into my hair and pulled me closer. “What did you do to me?”
“I … I don’t understand,” I managed between gasps.
In a smooth unhampered move, he rolled on top of me, pinning me down with the weight of his solid body. He held me there for a long time.
Though no fires burned in his eyes as before, there was enough heat from his piercing gaze to sear me to the spot. He jerked my head back and wrapped his long fingers around my throat, slitting his eyes as if daring me to defy him again.
“I could break your neck,” he said in a husky whisper as he moved so close, I thought his lips would touch mine, “before you even felt the twitch of my hands.” His breath, sweet and warm against my mouth, felt so at odds with the cold, cruel sincerity of his words. “I could boil the blood in your veins and fuse your bones together.” His eyes were knives, stabbing me with hot anger. “And I could make sure you lived long enough to feel every surge of pain, every nuance of agony.”
Fear engulfed me as it never had before. After what I’d seen today, I didn’t doubt a single word he was saying. “I’m sure that you could,” I said with a nervous swallow, then added, “Please don’t.”
He was shaking violently, or perhaps it was me. I wondered if he had stopped time again, because everything seemed to stand still as he stared down at me, a contemptuous rage glittering in his eyes.
“What did you do to me?” he asked again.
I raised a hand—praying he wouldn’t take it as a threat and carry out the aforementioned atrocities—and placed it on the side of his face.
He tried to back away, but I held my ground, kept my palm on his warm face.
“Jared,” I said, my voice quivering uncontrollably, “I would never hurt you.” He peered curiously at a tear as it pushed past my lashes. “I couldn’t hurt you even if I wanted to.”
He watched me warily as though struggling with some inner demon before saying, “You’re the only one who can.”
A sound above caught our attention. Cameron was trying to aim his rifle and drive at the same time. Jared grabbed the barrel just as the gun went off, startling me to the core. It blew a jagged hole in the top of the camper.
In one fluid movement, he jerked the gun from Cameron’s hand, chambered a round as he rose to his knees, and pointed it at Cameron’s head.
“No!” I scrambled up and lunged at him, trying to push the rifle aside. I shouldered myself between him and the pickup—between him and Cameron. Clutching at Jared’s T-shirt, I coaxed his sight down to mine. “No more.” I spoke softly but firmly. “This has to stop.” I turned to Cameron. “Both of you. This has to stop.”
Cameron grinned. He had no intention whatsoever of listening to me. “Not in this lifetime, love.”
He reached below the seat and took out a nasty-looking pistol, the kind that held six fat rounds.
The instant the gun went off, I found myself on the bed of the pickup, facedown. Jared was over me, but only for a split second. Before Cameron could get off another shot, he kicked down the tailgate and slid out the back of the pickup.
After a brutal fall to the pavement and a few rolls, he sprang up to land solidly on his feet. My breath caught as the eighteen-wheeler behind us tried to brake, sliding and skidding in helplessness. My hands flew to my mouth, sure Jared would be crushed.
He stood eyeing me, unconcerned. Just as the truck bore down upon him, he sidestepped calmly out of its way.
The relief that flooded my senses sent an unwelcome darkness washing over me. I shook my head to keep it at bay, forced myself not to pass out.
