Aria's POV
"Come on." I stood up, my body screaming in protest. Every muscle, every bone, every inch of skin felt like it had been through a meat grinder. "We need to call for help."
The old attendant at the gas station took one look at us and reached for his phone, probably to call the police. I didn't blame him. We looked like victims of a horror movie, extras from a zombie film. Blood caked in our hair, dirt smeared across our faces, clothes torn and hanging off our bodies in shreds.
"Wait," I said quickly, raising my hands in what I hoped was a non-threatening gesture. "Please. We just need to use a phone. We were in an accident."
Something in my voice must have convinced him. Maybe it was the desperation, the exhaustion that made my words shake. Or maybe it was the way Damien stoo
