The SUV flew down the road, bouncing and jerking with every bump and hole the driver seemed to ignore.
Right then, another bounce sent Mirabelle’s head smacking into the window. A grunt escaped her lips, but she didn’t move away to avoid a repeat. She couldn’t move. Not if she wanted to keep her hands pressed against the gashing wound in Morris’s thigh.
But the car jolted again and this time Mirabelle cursed when her elbow took the hit. She could hardly keep the pressure on the shirt held over Morris’s bleeding leg.
Growling, Mirabelle ignored Morris’s silent plea to just keep quiet. He was pale from blood loss and his fingers barely held on to the gun he had insisted on keeping pointed at Theodore even from the back seat. Mirabelle doubted being thrown around like a rag doll in a was
