Hawk (A Stepbrother Romance #3)(73)

I can't move.

They push the bed and it starts rolling down the hall. I turn my head, looking away from the overhead lights as they slip by, flashing bright and painful in my eyes. I still have a headache, wince at the thought of that thing exploding and stabbing light through my head. Hot air rushes over me as we pass outside, and the light is blinding.

Is it still the same day? I don't know. They turn the gurney around and push it, and it jerks as it hits the back of the ambulance. I slide between the open doors and the gurney lifts up, the legs folding under it as it slides back into the bottom of the ambulance and locks in place with a click. Tom appears, steps inside, and sits down next to me.

"I'll be heading back to town later, after I know you're safe," he says, emphasizing the last word.

I groan softly.

Two men get in the front. Terror floods through me in a cold wave. They're going to take me away and Hawk is never ever going to find me, and they're going to kill him. Tom is right. He won. I almost wish he would cut my leg.

I lived without Hawk for four years of my miserable life and I don't want to do it anymore.

My head weighs a million pounds, but with great effort I turn it to face away from him. Tom rests the back of his hand on my cheek, his knuckles, and I think he means to stroke my skin in some mockery of a comforting caress, but it feels like sandpaper dragging over my flesh. I hate him. I hate him more than anything in the world. If my mother wasn't lying, she did it for him, she had to. He did something to her, made her turn bad. It's all him. I hate him so much.

He won't do anything to me while the two ambulance drivers are here, I think. I hope.

He puts his hand on my leg, on my thigh, and his hand slips between my legs. A jolt of energy gives me enough power to move, try to twist away from him on my side, but I can't, the straps keep me down. It feels like I've swallowed hot lead and it's filled up my veins and everything is too heavy. As the ambulance starts to move, the rocking motion immediately makes me hazy, sleepy, and I yawn silently, unable to keep it in. Tom's hand pulls away.

Then he takes my hand in his. I try to pull it away but I can't, my wrist is bound and my arm is made of stone. I can look away from him, at least.

"Stop," I croak out, "Stop touching."

Just the words make me tired, like I'm expelling sand from my lungs. I watch my own chest rise and fall, and struggle with every breath not to fall back into the warmth calling me from below, reaching up with tendrils of soft heat to pull me into a dreamless sleep.

Help me. Please.

The ambulance starts to move. The soft motion is lulling, drawing me to sleep. I yawn and force my eyes open, but they start to glide shut anyway.

Then the ambulance driver barks out, "What in the f*ck is that?"

My eyes jolt open. A little surge gives me enough to twist, but I can't even raise my head and try to look. Tom stands up, bent at the knees, and looks through the windshield.

"Get us out of here. Now."

"Sir-"

"You heard me!" he snaps. "Drive!"

Tom jerks back down into his seat next to me and the ambulance keeps backing around, wildly, throwing me against the restraints. I moan softly as I lay in an awkward position on the bed, twisted onto my side. I try to sit up but I can't, I can't!

There's a noise coming, something huge. It sounds like a machine, and it sounds pissed off at the same time. The noise gets louder as the ambulance driver throws the transmission in drive and floors it. The sirens ring in my ears.

"Turn that off!" Tom shouts, but the driver ignores him.

The ambulance weaves from side to side, and I feel the body rolling, pitching me left and right, my stomach following just behind. The more it stirs the worse I feel, and I try to roll more onto my side so I won't puke all over myself.

It's Hawk. It's him. He's here. They found me.

I hear a car horn cut through the sirens. It goes loud and fades back, but that angry rumbling noise grows louder and higher and follows behind us.

"Take the highway, they won't follow us."

"Sir-" the driver says again, "I really think-"

"I'm not paying you to think, I’m paying you to f*cking drive! You!" He looks at the other one. "Radio for help, tell them to send the police!"

I can't see, I can't see what's going on. I try to sit up but rise only an inch before I flop back down, and the effort makes my gorge rise. I have to choke it back down, the taste of bile hot in my mouth. Another swerve and I pinch my eyes shut, desperate to tamp down the nausea.

The ambulance drivers are shouting at each other, shouting on the radio. We're going too fast. I feel the whole thing pitching as they change lanes, and that noise is only louder. It's behind us, whatever it is.

This time when I sit up I make it halfway, but before I fall back down, I see it.

There's a goddamn tank chasing us, and I'm pretty sure that's Hawk sitting in the back seat.

I flop back down again and writhe, pulling at my restraints. It's easier now, I can almost move my arms, but they don't go where I want, they just flop around aimlessly. I try again, but even if I can move properly, I'm never going to get loose. When I start to sit up, Tom pushes me back down.

"Lie still," he snaps. "Don't move."

Whimpering, I go still, but my legs won't stop twitching. We're going too fast, I can feel it. The driver swerves over and I cry out, knowing that we're going to flip over, and I can feel the tires lifting, ready to come off the road, and I scream, I can't help it.