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I felt a shade better just knowing he was next to me. I sat up, grinding my teeth, heart pounding.

“We can do this,” he whispered.

“Yes,” I agreed, voice breaking. I put my hand on his thigh. Jackson put his hand on the mattress behind me, leaning back so that his body brushed against mine. I reached over him, making sure my chest smashed into his stomach and grabbed a book that he had placed on the foot of the bed.

I heard the coils of Rochelle’s cot squeak.
 
Please, please work.
I sat up, twisting so I was angled toward Jackson. He slid his hand in a bit. Our bodies touched innocently, but it was enough to raise suspicions.
 

“This part always makes me sad,” I spoke. I cleared my throat. “When Scarlet falls down the stairs.”

“Yeah,” Jackson agreed and read the passage out loud. The basement door opened. Trepidation flooded my veins, and I suddenly had second thoughts. “You can do this,” Jackson whispered.

“I don’t know,” I said back, my voice quaking with every word.

“Yes,” he pressed.
 

“Okay.” I moved my head quickly and nodded. The girls got up and moved to the base of the stairs.

“Rochelle, no,” I heard Lily whisper.
 

We pretended not to hear. Jackson inched his fingers across my back until his hand rested on the curve of my hip. I tipped my head to the side, letting it fall on his shoulder.
 

“Just…no,” Lily begged. “It’s nothing. He’s trying to make her feel better. You saw her crying over Phoebe. She doesn’t like him like that.” Her dangly earrings jangled as she shook her head. I closed my eyes and tried to telepathically tell her to calm down. If all went as planned, she’d be free too.

Despite our practice with the cards, Lily did not get my message. I could almost feel her panic from across the room. Adrenaline surged through me. Two sets of heeled feet climbed the stairs. Jackson put the book down and took my hand. We looked at each other for a fleeting moment.

Then I sprung up and went to the vanity. I unplugged the curling iron and wrapped up the cord as fast as I could. Jackson moved to the side of the staircase, pressing his body against the wall, concealed by shadows. I turned on the shower and scrambled back to the cot, sitting with my back to the stairs. I held the hot metal iron away from my legs and out of sight.

Zane rushed down the stairs, his shoes echoing with each heavy step. He came to a halt.

“Where’s Jackson?” he demanded.

Right behind you, dipshit.
“Shower,” I answered and didn’t turn around.

“I heard something interesting,” Zane said and strode over to the shower. He had a gun tucked into the back of his pants. I thought my heart was going to explode. Part of my brain screamed at me not to follow through.

I felt a flutter in my stomach. I had to.
We
had to. The flutter turned into a spike of adrenaline. I rose from the cot, gripping the curling iron. An evil smirk twisted Zane’s pretty face. He stuck his hand out, slowly moving it toward the shower curtain. I moved just as slow, sneaking up behind him.
 

Like a snake striking prey, he grabbed the curtain and yanked it back. “You’re dead—” he began to threaten and cut off when he saw nothing but an empty shower. He whirled around, seething. “What the—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his question. I struck just as fast. I leaned back and brought my hand up, pressing the hot metal into his cheek. Zane cried out in pain. I shoved my hand forward, pushing against him. The smell of burning flesh choked me. When I pulled my hand back, bits of burned flesh stuck to the curling iron and peeled off his face.

Zane’s hands flew to the burn. He fell to his knees, screaming. Jackson struck next, kicking Zane in between his shoulder blades.
 

“My face!” Zane cried. Jackson kicked him again. He grabbed the gun and tossed it to me. “Look at what she did to my face!”

Jackson wrestled him to the ground. He pulled Zane’s arms back and shoved him face first onto the floor. “Do it Addie. Now!”

I raised the gun. My arms shook. I moved the barrel so that it was pointed at Zane’s head. Jackson leaned back, moving out of the line of fire. Zane’s malevolent blue eyes flashed to mine. His glare was full of nothing but wickedness. Even though he was staring down the barrel of a gun, there was no pleading, no regrets. There was just hate.

I looked right into those malicious eyes and pulled the trigger. And nothing happened. Shit. I didn’t know how to use the gun. I turned it to the side, frantically looking for the safety. Zane struggled against Jackson.

“Cock it,” Jackson called out.
 

Before I had a chance to even contemplate how to do that, Rochelle hurled her body through the air. She landed on top of me, knocking me over. The gun flew from my hands and skidded under a cot.

“You bitch!” she screamed and moved over me.
 

I bent my legs up, instinctively protecting my abdomen. Rochelle’s hands gripped my shoulders as she wrestled me to the ground. Her acrylic nails dug into my skin.

“Addie!” Jackson called out, looking up from Zane.
 

Zane used the distraction to his advantage. He brought his foot up, whacking Jackson, who fell forward. Jackson recovered quickly, fueled by rage. He ducked out of the way, narrowly missing Zane’s fist. Jackson pushed himself up onto his feet, spun and kicked Zane in the stomach.

I blindly extended my right hand, slapping at the ground as I desperately searched for a weapon. My fingers brushed the cold, flexible plastic of the curling iron cord. I didn’t want to hurt Rochelle. I didn’t even blame her for what she was doing.
 

But I had no choice.

I yanked the cord and gripped the handle of the curling iron, which was sticky from hairspray. I brought my arm up and struck Rochelle on the back of the head, hoping her hair would buffer most of the heat. She screamed and let go of my shoulder, raising her hand to strike me across the face. I twisted around, breaking out of her grasp and crawled forward on my elbows.

Rochelle caught my ankle. She dragged me back, knocking me off balance. My hands slipped out from under me and my chin smacked the floor, forcing my teeth down on my lip. I instantly tasted blood. I pushed myself forward, thrashing my legs. My heel clipped Rochelle in the face, and she fell back, her hands flying to her nose.

Hands grabbed at my arm. I jerked away before realizing it was Jackson. He pulled me to my feet. Zane staggered up from where he was slumped on the floor. I took a step back, looking for the gun. Jackson tugged my hand forward. If I went back for it, Zane could tackle me to the ground. There was no time.
 

We raced around the card table. Jackson skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, wanting me to go up first. I grasped the railing and took the stairs two at a time. I felt like my legs couldn’t move fast enough, and the tops of my thighs burned from desperate excursion. I flung myself onto the landing. Jackson was right behind me. He slammed the door and shot the deadbolt into place.

Chest heaving, I looked into his eyes for a second before running into the mudroom. I squinted in the dark, running my hand up and down the wall in search of the light.
 

“Come on, come on,” I mumbled, my entire body alive with adrenaline. The light flicked on, and I raced over to the door. Hanging on the wall next to it was a key hook. I snatched the keys to the Blazer and raced back into the kitchen. Jackson stood in the breakfast nook, holding a chair above his head.

“What the hell is going on?” Lily asked. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking terrified.
 

“We’re getting out of here,” I said and stood a few feet from Jackson. He turned his head and closed his eyes. “Come with us.”
 

Jackson threw the chair through the window. The high-pitched, blaring alarm sounded. The floor vibrated as Lou raced out of his room. Lily didn’t move. She stayed rooted in the spot, staring at me.

 
“Come!” I yelled over the alarm an extended my hand.
 

Lily looked at my fingers and then into my eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head.

“Lily!” I cried.

Jackson took my hand. “We don’t have time.” He pulled me forward. “She made her choice.” He used his elbow to clear away the shards of broken glass that clung to the window frame. He ducked through, jumping down onto the deck, and held his arms out for me.

“I’ll send help!” I promised Lily.
 

Rochelle banged on the basement door, screaming for Lily to open it. I took Jackson’s hands and climbed out the window. We sprinted around the house to the driveway. I fumbled with the keys and screamed in frustration when they fell from my shaking hands. I dropped to my knees and scooped them up.

I unlocked the Blazer and climbed inside. Jackson slid into the passenger seat. “Go!” he shouted, turning around to look at the house. I couldn’t steady my hands enough to get the keys in the ignition. Jackson reached over and wrapped his fingers around my hand, steadying me. Together, we started the SUV. I threw it in reverse and stomped on the gas. The Blazer jolted back. It was still moving when I shoved the gear into drive.
 

The engine revved and we peeled down the driveway. I didn’t even think about a destination. I yanked the wheel and sped down the street.

“He’s following us,” Jackson told me. His voice was tight with fear. We had only been driving for a few minutes.

“Who?”

“Zane or Lou. I don’t know, maybe both. Step on it, Addie. Their car is faster.”

I pushed the pedal down as far as it could go. The Blazer lurched forward, engine squealing. “Which way?”
 

“Straight. I’ll tell you when to turn.” I gripped the steering wheel and turned around. The SUV swerved. “Put your seat belt on,” Jackson told me and clicked his into place. I reached over and pulled it halfway across my body. Jackson took it from me, knowing my shaky hands weren’t functioning very well. It was taking all I had to keep the car on the road.
 

A gunshot echoed across the dark field from down the road. I screamed. Headlights grew brighter and brighter behind us. Jackson put his hand on my seat and twisted, watching the Camaro gaining on us. I stepped harder on the gas, pushing the old SUV past its limit. The entire thing started to shake as we took on more speed than it could handle.

“There’s a turn up ahead,” Jackson told me. “Go to the right!”

I let off the gas, my eyes scanning the unfamiliar road. I almost missed the green and white sign. Light bounced off the reflective numbers, and I slammed on the brakes. The SUV shuddered, but made the turn. I pressed the pedal down again, and the engine groaned in protest. My eyes flicked to the gauges; the engine was threatening to overheat. I couldn’t let up. We barreled down the road. I wasn’t aware that I had been holding my breath until my lungs begged for air. I opened my mouth and inhaled.

“They missed the turn,” Jackson said. I risked a glance in the rearview mirror and saw the Camaro back up and whirl around before accelerating down the road. It bought us some much-needed time.

“They’re going to catch up!” I cried. My fingers were going numb from grasping the steering wheel so hard. Jackson didn’t respond. He knew I was right. “Should we get out and run?”

“No,” he finally said. “There is a state road just ahead. You can’t see it past the trees.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s busy. Zane might not—” he cut off when a bullet hit the back window, shattering the glass. I screamed again, and the SUV dangerously swerved to the right. The tires caught on the rough side of the road. I yanked the wheel, over correcting and almost tipping the SUV over.

“Are you okay?” Jackson rushed out.

“I think so. You?”

“Yeah.” He turned around. “Fuck.” I looked at him, fear closing around my heart. “Eyes on the road, Addie!”

I shook myself and watched the dark street disappear. Rapid gunfire rang out. The gas pedal was against the floor. The old Blazer would not go any faster, and the Camaro was just yards behind us. My chest felt too small for my racing heart.

Streaks of yellow light flickered through the trees ahead. Hope painfully flowed through me, prickling my skin. I stomped my foot down fully knowing it would do no good. I wanted to reach the busy road so bad it hurt. My breath came out in huffs. I clenched my jaw and leaned forward.

More shots rang out, pinging off the tailgate. Something splattered on the windshield. For a split second I thought we had hit something. Then I realized the blood was on the
inside
of the SUV.

“Jackson,” I screamed and twisted my body.
 

His eyes were wide with shock. He leaned forward. Then the pain set in. His hand flew to his left shoulder, pressing on the bullet wound. Lights grew brighter in front of us. A car honked. I turned back around and saw that we were just feet from the intersection.

Everything slowed down in that second. The metallic smell of Jackson’s blood filled the air. The brake pedal squeaked when I pressed it down and the tires squealed. The back end of the SUV fishtailed. The lights to my right were so bright. I closed my eyes and could hear my heart pounding in my head.

And then we crashed.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

THE BLAZER CONTINUED forward, diving down a ditch. The front smashed into the ground, deploying the airbags. It covered my face and felt like I was suffocating. The SUV tipped to the side. My head cracked on the window. An instant wave of nausea gripped me, and my ears rang.
 

Powder from the airbag burned my nose, choking me. Pain radiated along my temple. I felt a warm tingle run down my spine. My eyes were too heavy to keep open. They closed on their own accord, and I lost consciousness.
 

The heavy smell of gasoline brought me back. The SUV was lying on its side. I struggled to shove the airbag away. “Jackson,” I cried. “Jackson!”