I push back, connecting once with a solid hit to someone’s jaw. Knuckles meet bone, pain shooting up my wrist, and a moment of satisfaction cuts through the fog of hurt.
Then a boot catches me in the side, and I fold over, gasping. The wet pavement rushes up to meet me, grit biting into my palms and knees. Watersoaks through my jeans, cold as ice against bruised skin.
“Not such a big man now.” The tallest one circles me. “This is what happens when you mess with people who can’t fight back.”
The irony burns almost as much as my split lip. I try to rise, one knee lifting from the puddle, only to be knocked down again by another kick.
“Stay down if you know what’s good for you.” Phone-guy zooms in, lens inches from my bleeding face. “This is going viral, just like last time.”
Through the static rush of water and my own heartbeat, I hear an engine approaching. Tires hiss on wet asphalt, and headlights flood the alley, cutting through the misty dark.
A horn blares, long and insistent. The men freeze, heads turning toward the sound.
“Shit. Someone’s coming.” The middle one backs away first. “Let’s go.”
“Got enough footage anyway.” Phone-guy lowers his device, grinning down at me. “This’ll finish what the first video started.”
They scatter with trailing curses, footsteps splashing through puddles as they disappear down an alley.
Coughing, I collapse forward as pain lances through my ribs. One hand pressed to my side, Ilean against the brick wall, breathing through clenched teeth.
A car door opens, and footsteps come running toward me.
Through the rain and the blood in my mouth, I raise my head as the figure stops beside me, breath loud in the dark. “What… what are you doing here?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Emily
The windshield wipers beat a steady rhythm on the glass, brushing off the rain.
Auren sits curled in the passenger seat, his form a pale shadow in the darkness. His bandaged wrist curls against his body like a badge of honor while the truck cab fills with his pheromones, crushed violets thickening the air until each breath coats my lungs in sticky sweetness.
I keep my attention locked on the road, where reflections of streetlights stretch and warp across the wet asphalt.
Auren sighs for the third time since we left the lot.
“The storm is getting worse,” he murmurs, anote of fear tightening his throat. “I can’t believe they kept us at the hospital for so long.”
I say nothing as I grip the steering wheel, my attention focused on the curving road ahead.
Auren winces as we hit a pothole, his body jerking forward then back. My jaw aches from clenching, teeth grinding together each time his pheromones spike with manufactured distress.
When I don’t react, he lifts his bandaged wrist closer, fingers curling around the gauze, as if there’s any way I’ve forgotten about the injury. “The doctor said I should be careful not to jostle my injuries.”
A car passes in the opposite direction, headlights flaring across the cab. That flash betrays his calculated look before he can go back to playing up the pain.
“You’re taking the long way,” Auren observes, his head turning toward me. “You could cut through Maple Street and save us ten minutes.”
Save us ten minutes to what? To me, giving in? To him, stepping back into my life?
I check the rearview mirror and see nothing but black emptiness stretching behind us. No other cars are braving the storm at this hour.
Auren shifts again, this time leaning toward me,his scent intensifying. The blanket slips from one shoulder, tempting me to reach for him, to reestablish the caretaker dynamic he thrives on.
I keep my attention on the dark road ahead, the familiar routine of driving keeping me from spiraling into the vortex of his manipulation.
“This is silly,” Auren says after the silence stretches too long for him. His bandaged hand emerges from beneath the blanket, hovering in the space between us. “You could just take me home.”