The buzzing noise in her head refused to relent, a cacophony of chaotic thoughts that felt like a swarm of angry bees inside her skull. Caelin clenched her jaw. She hated this—this unwelcome flood of thoughts, incoherent and messy, every fragment of the men’s minds scratching against hers like nails on glass. Why can’t people think in a straight line? She thought bitterly.
She cast one last glare at the men writhing on the asphalt. Whatever they were thinking, it wasn’t worth her time. She needed to move Samuel, and fast. If Mitch had sent one group, there were likely more on the way.
Stepping over the groaning forms, she approached the one SUV that wasn’t a total wreck. It was basic, utilitarian, and boring—everything her sleek custom car wasn’t. She sighed as she opened the door, throw
