N9ne: The Tale of Kevin Clearwater (King, #9)(35)

I have no choice but to lean over and grab the wheel, shifting my ass over to the part of the driver’s seat not taken up by the half of Nine’s body still in the car. I keep my head down as low as possible while Nine returns fire.

“Get back in here. You’re going to get shot!” I shout, pulling on his belt with one hand.

Nine ducks back in, and I think for a second that he’s listening to my warning, but when he reaches over me into the center console and grabs a black sleeve, exchanging it with the one already in his gun, I realize it’s only so he can reload.

The side view mirror shatters. My shoulders jump, and my heart stops for a few beats.

“Breathe, Lenny,” Nine orders. “Just keep driving, and breathe.” He climbs back out the window and fires off several more shots.

“Where am I supposed to be going?” I ask.

“Nowhere. Just drive. We’re waiting for reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements?” I ask. “Who?”

Nine continues to shoot round after round, sometimes ducking in to reload or to dodge a bullet. His arm is bleeding, and he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

Suddenly, he leaps across my lap into the passenger seat and yells, “Hold the fuck on!” He grabs the oh shit handle over his head just as the Hummer careens into the back of the truck, jolting us forward. My head hits the steering wheel, and my vision blurs. I don’t realize I’m pulling the wheel to the side until Nine reaches over and straightens us out before we dive headlong into a ditch. The thought sobers me, clearing my thoughts, but my head is pounding.

“You alright?” Nine shouts, looking frantic yet calm at the same time, and I realize he’s not upset for himself but for me.

I can only nod as I try to keep us on the road.

“Here they come!” Nine warns, and I brace myself for yet another impact when an older, black Cadillac spins out onto the road from within the tall grass of the neighboring cornfield, speeding in the opposite direction. It slams on the brakes and spins into a full turn until it’s beside the Hummer.

A bullet cracks the back windshield, and I duck, pressing the gas so hard I won’t be surprised if my foot breaks through the floorboard.

I look into my rearview and watch as a hand appears from the passenger side of the Cadillac…holding some sort of green fruit?

“What the fuck?” I mutter. “Who is that?” I ask.

Over the sound of bullets and speeding tires I hear someone laughing. No, they aren’t laughing. They’re…singing?

“That, would be our reinforcements.”

“Why are our reinforcements singing “Boom Boom Pow” by the Black Eyed Peas?” I shout.

“You’ll find out. Just whatever you do, don’t stop. No matter what.”

“Why the hell would I stop?” I ask, frantically, shouting, “We’re being chased! And what the fuck does no matter what mean?”

My answer comes in the form of the ground beneath us rumbling until it feels as if the earth opened up and is about to swallow us whole. I look in the rearview and spot yellow and red flames along with a plume of black where the Hummer had just been. The explosion is so forceful, the truck accelerates forward as if I stepped on the gas when my foot’s already to the floor. The back tires lift from the pavement, and my arms feel like they’re breaking as I try to hold the wheel straight. I’m sure we’re about to flip over when the tires settle back down, and I’m flooded with a surge of relief so strong I’m dizzy from it.

I look over at Nine, and he’s trying to tell me something, but I can’t hear him because of the ringing in my ears. I realize he’s mouthing the word stop.

It takes me a solid few seconds to process what he’s saying. When it sinks in, I do as instructed and slowly bring us to a stop on the side of the road.

Nine and I are both breathing heavily, trying to catch our breaths.

The first thing I hear after the high-pitched ringing in my ears begins to die down is laughter followed by a voice. “How did you like that apple, motherfuckers?”

“Is that our reinforcements?” I ask.

Nine nods, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Our eyes lock. There’s something in the air between us. It’s charged. Electric. I can feel the heat of his body all the way across the cab. My lips tingle. My senses abandon me. I’m just about to open the door for some fresh air to regain my senses when Nine scrambles across the cab, lifts me from my seat, and places me on his lap. He pulls my head down and crushes his lips to mine, and it’s nothing like any kiss I’ve ever experienced before. I didn’t even know people kissed like this. Maybe, I’m dead, because the way his tongue licks across the seam of my lips feels like heaven, but the way my body reacts, nipples tightening, thighs rubbing on his, the need and pressure building as he passionately destroys what I thought kissing was supposed to be, feels more sinful than heavenly.

I might be in Hell, but I don’t even fucking care.

The feeling doesn’t last long. Nine’s lips leave mine, and I’m deposited back into the driver’s seat just as the door suddenly flies open. A man wearing a dress shirt with a set of matching suspenders and a bow tie appears.

“Howdy, kids. Did you enjoy the show? Anyone hurt? Dead? Dying? On fire? Headaches? Nausea? Unexplainable discharge? Rash that won’t go away? A sudden need to stop, drop, and motherfucking roll?” He runs a hand over his long hair, slicking it back and exposing the shorter hair beneath and tattoos inked into the sides of his scalp. “No? Just some post-adrenaline heavy petting? I get it. Been there. Done that. Bought the motherfucking t-shirt.”