Stone takes the sub from me, chuckling. “They’re called peppers.”
“Dear God. They’re fucking awful.”
He hands me another sub, telling me it’s tamer, and then laughs as he takes a huge bite out of the sub I gave back to him.
I grumble at him, this time opening up the sub he gave me to see what’s in it, so I don’t have a repeat of what just happened. Instead, I’m happy to see that there’s ham, cheese, lettuce, and mayonnaise on this one. Plain Jane. I guess that’s the way I like it.
“You could’ve started her out with a little less heat,” Lucas says, rolling his eyes as he sits next to me.
I hungrily eat the sub in my hands. One, because it tastes good, but two, because it helps tame the fire that’s still raging inside my mouth.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Stone says. “I forget that she hasn’t...” He trails off, peeking at me like he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing which is a brand new look for him. Usually, he doesn’t give a fuck. “...you know, tried stuff before,” he says, all politically correct as if he hasn’t been the biggest douche to me before.
Stone’s phone rings, and he brings it out. He frowns down at it then stands, shoving the chair back. “Fuck,” he roars.
Lucas’s hands flex on the glass table. “What?”
“It’s Wyatt. Goddammit. I knew I shouldn’t have let him go off by himself.” Stone eyes me then Lucas. “We have to go get him.”
“Shit,” Lucas says. “Is he—?”
“Yep.”
Lucas runs his hands through his hair. He takes a sub, then helps me wrap mine up. “Come on, Wild Girl. We have to go save Wyatt.”
30
We’ve been speeding down desert roads for forty-five minutes, my heart in my throat. I’m sitting in the back of the Audi with a fierce grip on the two seats in front of me. Lucas and Stone don’t talk. Stone’s intense concentration on the road is both terrifying yet oddly satisfying since he’s driving like a crazy person, and Lucas has a death grip on the handle above the car door, leaning forward like he could make the car go even faster if he tried.
The scenery blurs by so fast, I couldn’t enjoy it even if I tried. We hit the limits of a city. The welcome sign whirs past before I can even think to see where we are. My mouth drops as the lights from houses, street posts, and other cars, light up the horizon like twinkling stars. I thought I had to look up to see that much light, but I was wrong. In a way, the city lights are just as beautiful. So much life. So much activity.
A car honks at us as Stone cuts him off. His jaw feathers like it’s a personal affront. It’s dark out now, which is another reason why the city lights are so bright, but it also lets a hint of fear creep in. I don’t know where we are. I don’t know where we’re going, and I certainly don’t understand why Wyatt needs saving.
Eventually, Stone slows the car, veering toward a highway exit. The tires squeal as he makes the turn, merging onto a different highway. A couple of miles down the road, he slows again, and I blink to make sure I’m seeing correctly. Chain-link fences loom into view. Barbwire tops bow out over the road. The straight line of fencing goes on for as far as street lamps light up the side of the road.
“Where the hell are we?” I ask, but in the next instant, the answer looms into view in the form of a sign. My gaze catches on the word prison. “Why is Wyatt here?”
Without answering, Stone drives up to a guard station. The guard comes out with a gun, sighing when he sees Stone, who immediately holds up his hand. “I know. I’m getting him out now.”
“Man, you know we can’t keep doing this.”
“I didn’t realize he was that bad again,” Stone says to the guy holding a gun. A fucking gun. I mean, my dad had a gun that we took into the mountains with us, but that was for shooting poisonous snakes. This gun is for... Well, I guess to keep the people who are inside staying inside, which is a good thing. I can’t keep my eyes off it as Stone drives into an inner perimeter. A parking lot opens up that’s surrounded by another round of gates and fences with a thick, high wall. We can’t even see the prison proper yet. Not that I want to. Nerves skate over my body. This place is terrifying. This is only my second time out of Clary, and I’m at a prison. I never thought I’d see the day.
Stone leans forward, gazing out the window. He picks up speed when a shadow in the corner moves. The bright lights shining down from above, cast Wyatt’s imprint on the pavement in four different directions. When he sees us coming, he plops down on his ass.
Stone parks the car. “I’ll get him,” he huffs.
He exits the car, shoves his hands into his pockets, and strides up to Wyatt. I lean forward while I watch Stone and Wyatt talk. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“Wyatt has a past,” Lucas says softly, sighing as he watches the scene. It’s obvious Wyatt is shit-faced. Stone pulls him to his feet and the cowboy nearly takes them both down when he struggles to stay upright. “We all do.”
“But prison?” I ask, wondering what the hell has happened in Wyatt’s past that he would end up here. Of all places. I don’t know much about the outside world. Obviously. But this place doesn’t seem like some ordinary jail either.
“Yeah,” Lucas says on an exhale. “Here. Always here.”
Stone has to almost carry Wyatt to the car. Lucas hops out, moving
