The van was moving.
My body began to roll across the cold floor like a discarded sack of potatoes, every jolt and lurch hammering into me with bruising rigor. Whether someone was driving it, however, was another matter entirely. There was no hum of an engine, no rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath the tires. Only the tortured groan of metal straining against its own weight, punctuated by a sharp string of curses flung into the air like venom.
Darius.
Hope bloomed inside my chest—though it quickly snuffed out when a deafening bang ripped through the van, followed by the unmistakable sensation of it slamming back into the earth. The impact reverberated through me, metal biting into my ribs and bruising my jaw as I hit the floor.
A moan of agony swelled in my throat, raw and desperate, but
