Lennox (26 page)

“Force him onto the bypass!” I shout again.

“I’m trying, I’m trying!”

Drazic revs the engine and surges up alongside Rory. We’re
almost to the bypass entrance at the mountain road’s base. It’s
steep and gravelly, mostly intended to help smaller cars get around
slow trucks and rock slides safely on the main road. He starts to
curve wide to force Rory onto the turn.

“I won’t be able to stay alongside him up the pass,”
Drazic shouts.

“That’s okay. Just get close enough for me to jump.”

“
Jump?!?
”

Rory’s right alongside us. I bend my knees and elbows, and then
fling myself for the Datsun’s roof.

For a moment, I am weightless. I am utterly insane. Willing to do
anything for Elena. And it makes me feel so alive.

Then I slam onto the Datsun’s roof, my teeth rattling in my
head. Rory jerks to the side, trying to shake me, but I swing my hand
forward and catch hold of the door frame on Elena’s side.
“Duck!” I scream at her, then bash my fist against the
glass.

Rory swears inside the car, and takes the turn onto the bypass as
sharp as he possibly can. I grip the edge of the doorframe for dear
life as jagged teeth of glass dig into my palm.

“I’m coming up behind you. What do you need?”
Drazic asks.

“Just keep the pressure on. And get ready to brake when I call
for it.”

“Brake? Why?”

I grimace and pull myself farther up onto the Datsun’s roof.
“You’ll see.”

Rory’s swerving wildly along the narrow pass, still trying to
shake me, still unable to shift to lose us. But I’m not giving
up. Just a little farther . . . I stretch my hand down
and yank the passenger door’s handle open from the inside.

“Elena. Can you hear me?”

Her muffled response is enough for me.

The door swings open and scrapes along the stone wall. “Jump!”
I scream at her. “Drazic, brake!”

The door flies off the car as Rory tries to wedge us against the
wall, but he’s too late. Elena drops out of the passenger’s
side and onto the road, rolling, her hands still bound together.
Rory’s moving too quick to stop, not without winding up
face-first in the canyon wall. Drazic pumps the brakes on the Camaro
and comes to a stop in front of Elena. How fast were we going? It
couldn’t have been more than twenty-five miles an hour. Thirty,
tops. She’ll be okay. Won’t she?

I try to look back over my shoulder, but my hand slips. I’m
losing purchase on what’s left of the doorframe.
Please,
please let Elena be okay.

But there’s something I need to do for myself, too.

I pull myself to the right side of the roof and slide down into the
passenger’s seat with a groan.

“Fuck you!”

Rory swings a punch at me from the driver’s seat, but he’s
too worried about keeping the car on the bypass; there isn’t
enough force behind it. I shake it off and reach for the steering
wheel. We yank back and forth, and I bring up one knee to try to jam
his hands. His gear stick’s missing—Elena must have
wrenched it out to mess up his speed. Good girl.

“You piece of shit,” Rory snarls. “You have no
loyalty. No sense of pride. You’re just a fucking criminal,
too.” He laughs hysterically as the tires graze the edge of the
sheer drop on the driver’s side of the pass.

“I’ll never be your kind of criminal. A dirtbag.”

“No? You already are. And you always will be. You’re
nothing but trash.”

Nothing but trash. What I always feared—why I made Elena that
bullshit promise, instead of telling her how I really felt for her.
Because I never thought I’d deserve her.

Well, fuck that shit. If I don’t deserve her after this, no one
does.

I jerk the wheel toward the left, pushing us closer toward the cliff.
Rory shoves an elbow deep into my ribs.

“When this is over,” Rory says, “I’m going to
enjoy watching you die. Very, very slowly. The price of betrayal.”

“I won’t give you the pleasure. This ends here. Because
I’m loyal to my
real
family. They’ve earned that
from me.” I wrap both hands around the gear stick, my right
palm slippery with blood. “Wanna know what you’ve
earned?”

Rory takes his eyes off the road for that split second. And that’s
my chance.

I grab the loose gear stick from the floorboards and drive it into
Rory’s ribs.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, wind rushing out of him.
Again the tires rumble as we skirt against the edge. While he
frantically tries to twist the wheel back into place, I jam the
gearstick right into his gut.

Gravel flies around us as we reach the edge, and then the car is
airborne.

My stomach falls out from under me, but I am floating, floating.
Bound to Rory McManus no more.

For a few fleeting seconds, I am free.

Elena

The smell of smoke and burning rubber floods my nostrils. I can
barely breathe under this awful canvas bag, but it’s nice to
smell something other than my own breath for a moment. I’m
slumped against the gravel of a road somewhere. Blood wells up on my
knees, where my jeans have torn open from my roll, and on my elbows,
scraped raw.

But I’m alive. And I’m free.

What about Lennox?

I wriggle my way up onto my knees and toss my head forward until the
bag finally slides off. At first, it’s too dark to make sense
of much, but the headlights from the car stopped behind me start to
paint a picture. The car I jumped from is racing up ahead.

I look up just in time to see it careen over the side of the path and
drop out of view.

“Lennox!” I scream, though the duct tape slapped over my
mouth muffles me considerably. “Lennox! No!”

“Come on, Elena. Come on.”

My uncle’s arms wrap around me and hoist me to my feet. I try
to shake him and run for the edge of the path, but he tackles me and
drags me back.

“Don’t look. You’re safe now. That’s what
matters.”

But he’s wrong. I collapse back to my knees. Lennox can’t
be gone.

He’s survived far worse. He has to survive this, too.

*

I slump next to Uncle D in the hard plastic chairs of the Ridgecrest
Community Hospital emergency department. The nurses patched up my
road rash hours ago and treated me for the deep cuts on my wrists and
ankles where the bunched-up duct tape had cut into it. I’ve
already been interviewed by three different detectives. And still
Lennox is in the operating suite.

They pulled him out of the passenger’s side of the Datsun with
broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a shattered left wrist from where
he landed, roughly on top of Rory McManus. Rory was dead on arrival,
thankfully. I watched them zip up the body bag on what was left of
him, just to make sure.

Now I’m a bundle of raw nerves, too on edge to sleep but too
tired to make any sense. Cyrus and Jagger are huddled in one corner
of the waiting area, giving me space with my uncle. Not that he and I
are on the best of terms. Only a near-death experience and our shared
anxiety are banding us together right now.

“Elena.” Drazic slings an arm around my shoulder, trying
to comfort me. He was always a great father figure, but “comforting”
was never his strong suit. “
Djevojka
.”

I grimace. Whatever he wants to say, I’m not sure I’m
ready to hear it. Especially when I don’t know what’s
going to happen to Lennox. When I’m waiting for answers.

“You were right,
djevojka
.”

A smile works its way across my face. “Was I?”

He nods. “Lennox only did what he thought was for the best. I
just . . . wish there could have been a better way.”

“That’s what he does.” I sigh. “He bargains
with the Cartwrights to help his grandmother. He fights the McManuses
to help out strangers. He has no problems sacrificing himself for a
greater cause. I just—” I lean against my uncle’s
shoulder. No use being mad at him right now. Not when life is so
fleeting. “I wish he’d see his value, too.”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy, all right. Maybe to a fault. But
I know he’ll always do the right thing.” He grins and
pats my arm. “I can see why you love him. Why you always have.”

My cheeks burn as I bury my face in his side. “It’s that
obvious, huh?”

Uncle D pats my hand. “Because you’ve got a good heart,
too. Anything you want—I’ll support.”

“You mean it?” I ask. Hope flutters in my chest.

He nods, confident. “We’re family, after all. And Lennox
is our family, too.”

“Mister Drazic?”

Uncle D and I both snap to attention as a petite doctor approaches
us, clipboard in her hand. My throat closes up. Her expression is
severe, and it’s not putting me at ease.

“Mister Solt is out of surgery,” she says. “Everything
went well.”

“Oh, thank god.” I squeeze Uncle D’s hand. Cyrus
and Jagger approach from behind the doctor and flash thumbs up.

“He’s still resting, and it will take several weeks for
his ribs to heal up, but . . . he’s going to be
all right.”

*

“He might not wake up for another hour or so,” the nurse
cautions me, as I settle in beside Lennox’s bed.

I lace my fingers in his, taking care not to get tangled in his IV
cord. “Doesn’t matter. I want to be here.”

The nurse smiles. “I’ll give you some privacy.” He
jerks the bed curtains shut, leaving me in peace with Lennox.

For a few minutes, I just watch him sleeping, his breath rising and
falling against the gentle backdrop of the heart monitors’
chirps. Even with his broken nose swaddled in gauze and dried blood
crusted to his eyebrows, he’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve
ever seen. His dark lashes flutter against his cheeks. I want to kiss
each individual eyelash. Kiss every inch of him to take away his
pain.

Then his fingers tighten around mine and he slowly comes awake.

“Elena.” He smiles, then winces from the strain of
smiling. “Ow.”

“Careful.” I run my fingers against his forehead with my
free hand. “Is there any part of you that doesn’t hurt?”

He ponders for a moment. “My lips aren’t too bad. Could
use a kiss, though.”

“Well, if it’s for the sake of recovery . . .”

I lean over him and brush my lips to his. He barely returns it, but I
know he’s doing the best he can. Warmth surges through my body.

“That was very stupid, you know. What you did.” I settle
back in my chair, still gripping his hand. “And very brave.”

Lennox manages a feeble laugh. “Hey. I resemble that remark.”
He’s quiet for a while. I start wondering if he’s fallen
back asleep, but then he jerks toward me, all traces of his smile
gone. “Rory. Is he . . . ?”

“Dead.” I clench my jaw. “I saw the body myself.
You’re safe.”

“No. Not while Mama’s still out there.”

I glance over my shoulder. Uncle D, Cyrus, and Jagger already
promised we’d work in shifts to protect Lennox while he
recovered. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You just focus on
healing—”

“No. Elena, you don’t understand. She’s just as
relentless as Rory was. Just as ruthless.” He exhales; behind
him, the heart rate monitor creeps up in tempo. “She won’t
let this stand. She’s going to fight back.”

“I know. But . . .” I take a deep breath.
I don’t want to get his hopes up. But if there’s any
chance . . . “I might have an idea for that,
too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. In time.” I smile, and stroke the side of his face.
“For now, I want you to get your rest. Heal up. We need you
healthy, all right?”

Lennox sighs contentedly and leans into my touch. “Anything you
say, beautiful.”

“Anything?” I grin. “Then how about you cut out the
‘I’m not worthy’ crap? You’re more deserving
than any man in the world.”

Lennox laughs to himself. “Fine. Deal.” He squeezes my
hand tighter as his eyes close again. “I love you, Elena.”

“I love you, too.”

*

The doctors force Lennox to stay off his feet for two weeks, and not
a second later, he’s ready to go. Our first stop: Cartwright
Industries headquarters, on the edge of town. We storm through the
staircase and past Amber’s desk, on a mission. It’s past
time for this. And our bargaining chip has never been better.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Amber leaps up from her desk and
hobbles after us on her five-inch platform heels. “What the
fuck do you think you’re doing? You can’t go in there!”

“Watch me.” I grab the handle to Alexander Cartwright’s
heavy oak door.

Amber slams against the door to pin it in place and shoots me a
venomous glare. “Lennox. Elena. You can’t do this. You
fucking can’t.” Her eyes well with tears. “I told
your little band of thugs what happened, okay? We’re square.”

Lennox whirls on her, scarily calm. Even I jump back from the dark
expression on his face. “We’ll never be square.”
His voice is thin as wire. “You will always owe me. For every
single day that Troy should be here, but isn’t. So stay the
fuck out of my way.”

Amber curls her hands into fists, groans, and backs away. “Fine.
But Daddy isn’t going to be happy about it.”

Lennox grins. “I think you might be surprised, when he hears
what we have to offer him.”

I yank open the heavy door to Alexander Cartwright’s office. He
stands up from his desk at the far end of the chamber, which is all
gaudily decorated in marble and onyx and gilded frames. His tan
practically glows in the dim lighting as he stalks down the length of
the room, meeting us in the middle.

“Mister Solt. What is the meaning of all this?”

“You owe me,” Lennox says. “Big time.”

Mr. Cartwright smiles thinly. “I’m afraid you must be
mistaken. Any perceived debt between us was surely settled quite some
time ago.”

“No. I don’t think so.”