CHAPTER 2 THE GETAWAY
519 Words
The night swallowed us whole.
Adrian’s grip on my hand was firm but not painful, his steps fast and purposeful as he pulled me out into the rain-slicked street. My bare feet slapped against the pavement, the thin silk of my nightgown clinging to my skin, but there was no time to think about anything except keeping up.
A black car waited at the curb, engine purring like a predator. He yanked the door open and pushed me inside, sliding in after me in one fluid motion. The moment it shut, we were moving — tires squealing, city lights streaking past the tinted glass.
My heart pounded, my breath ragged.
“Adrian—what’s happening?”
His jaw flexed, eyes locked on the road ahead as if even looking at me might make him falter.
“They weren’t supposed to find us this soon,” he said, voice low, clipped. “We have maybe an hour before they catch up. Less if we don’t move fast.”
“Who?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached over, pulled a blanket from the seat, and draped it over my shaking shoulders. That small, careful gesture — even in the middle of chaos — made my chest tighten.
The driver took a sharp turn, the force throwing me against Adrian’s side. His arm went around me instantly, steadying me, but he didn’t pull away. His hand lingered at my waist, warm and strong, grounding me in the storm.
“Where are we going?” I whispered.
“A place they can’t reach you.” His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest second before returning to the blur of the city. “But you have to promise me something.”
“What?”
“Don’t ask questions you’re not ready to hear the answers to.”
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We crossed the city, heading toward the dark stretch of highway beyond the lights. The hum of the engine, the low beat of the rain, and the way his thumb kept brushing against my side made my pulse quicken for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.
When the road finally smoothed out and the driver’s focus shifted fully forward, Adrian leaned closer. The heat of him wrapped around me, his breath brushing my ear.
“You’re shivering,” he murmured.
“It’s cold.”
“No…” His hand slid slowly along my thigh, his voice dropping lower. “…that’s not why.”
I turned to look at him, every nerve in my body on edge. His gaze burned into mine — intense, unblinking — until the car felt too small, the air too thick.
He kissed me hard, almost rough, like he needed to remind himself I was still here. The world outside blurred into nothing as his fingers tangled in my hair, his mouth moving against mine with a hunger that sent heat spiraling through me.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them.
“I’m not letting you go,” he said. “Even if it kills me.”
TO BE CONTINUED
- Writer
