Defy (Brothers of Ink and Steel Book 3)(25)

He doesn’t look convinced.





Chapter Seven



Ryder





The sun rises as we find a safe place to dock close to Port Arthur.

I give Farrington a hand out of the boat. She grips my wrist firmly and, I notice, with a new level of confidence. She’s beginning to trust me—that fact wedges itself inside of me. It matters to me, even if I can’t explain why.

This girl is getting under my skin. Even though she nearly got us killed—several times— fighting me through our entire escape, I utterly respect her for it. In her mind, I was one of them, and there was no way in hell she was going to be a helpless victim. I like that. She did everything in her power to kick my ass. If she could’ve, she would’ve. Then—even when she was confused about her situation and what was going on, doubtful of who I was and what my true intentions were, and utterly terrified—she was smart, kept her head and thought about it. Sexiest thing I ever saw is when she jumped right into the goddamn fray to smack that alligator with the oar in an effort to protect me. That was so undeniably, unbelievably, f*cking hot!

Now, here she is, putting her trust in me. I won’t disappoint her.

“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her.

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Farrington.” I grip her shoulders so she has to look at me. “I’m not going to let them hurt you.”

She wants to believe me, but she’s been through too much. She notices the blood I’m getting on the shoulder of what was probably a very pretty yellow summer dress that’s now ripped and ruined.

“Jesus, I’m sorry.” I let go of her fast. “I’m bleeding all over you.”

“It’s alright.” She lifts her hand and sets it delicately on the curve of my jaw. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be alive. You saved me.”

Her eyes are a soft cinnamon brown with an inner ring the color of warm, golden honey. They pull me in and hold me. I’m sure they contain an entire universe, a universe I want to explore.

“We need to get you to a hospital. You’re going to need stitches.”

I take her hand from my face and hold it between both of mine. “We need to get you away from this place.”

“The hospital would be safe.”

“Would it?” I say quickly, remembering the waitress’s fated words. Mason owns this city. “We need a car. Now.”

I don’t let go of her hand as I walk us quickly and cautiously away from the docks. I have to get her the hell out of here.

“The dogs smell through an olfactory gland and can track your scent using dead skin cells. They won’t stop until they find you. But there are a few things we can do to f*ck them up and throw them—at least temporarily—off your trail.”

“You think that they can still smell me, even after all of the distance we just put in?”

“The handlers only need to deduce which ways you could’ve gone and then bring the dogs; they’ll pick your scent back up in no time,” I explain as I pull her along the wharf.

Enormous cargo ships line Sabine Lake, waiting for their turn under the loading cranes for their freight. A tremor shoots through me at the thought that Farrington could have easily been in one of those shipments with access to anywhere in the world. Port Arthur is nineteen miles to the open ocean, and a hub for interstate and rail travel. How many others has he done this to?

“If Miguel is still breathing after the gang raid on his estate, you can bet he’s getting his soldiers spread out to hunt you. He’ll alert his contacts within a hundred mile radius to be on the lookout. We need to change your appearance.”

We’re a real f*cking mess, and the dock workers are noticing.

I lead us into a remote parking lot for the shipyard workers. It takes about three seconds to find a parked vehicle with a window opened an inch for air.

“Right here.” I stop, slide my fingers into the slit and jack the window back and forth until it falls off its tracking.

I reach my hand in to unlock it and open the door. “Hurry, get in.”

For a moment, she hesitates, but then she slips around me and climbs over to the passenger seat.

Using the filed key in my toolkit, I start the silver Honda Accord and drive us off the lot.

“You had a key?”

“It’s filed—a trick of car thieves—you just have to wiggle it right to engage the tumblers. Flat head screwdriver can work too.”

She nods. “Nice trick.”

I drive just a few miles over the speed limit so I don’t bring attention to the vehicle.

“So, you don’t trust going to the hospital?”

“Not here I don’t. In fact, I wouldn’t trust anywhere in a two hundred mile vicinity of this place.”

“What about the police?”

“Fuck no!”

“Fuck no,” she echoes.

“Farrington, Miguel owns this entire area. You have to understand that.”

“Then where are we going? Houston?”

I laugh.

“Nice answer.”

“No we are not going to Houston.”

“Houston is a freaking huge city—he can’t own that too.”

I shake my head and click on the radio. I switch channels until I get to a news station.