Sacrifice
Page 119
“Go,” Nick said to him. “Get her to the truck.”
Adam glanced between him and the guys on the beach. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
Nick wasn’t sure, either. He wasn’t a fighter, not really. And what was he going to do? Suffocate them? Freeze them to death? Blast them with sand?
“It’s all right,” said the light-haired guy. He still had a death grip on his friend, but his words had a hint of slur. “Take her home. I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“Yeah,” said Nick. “Looks like it.” But he glanced at Adam and took a step toward the trail. Adam met his eyes, and they shared a moment of silent agreement.
Adam didn’t want to fight, either.
And that was refreshing.
The dark-haired guy swore. “I’m going to kill those—”
“Run,” said Nick.
Adam ran. Nick was right behind him.
And then they were tearing through the darkness, leaping into the truck.
And then they were gone.
CHAPTER 5
Nick had to fight to keep the truck near the speed limit. He kept checking the rearview mirror, looking for motorcycles or any sign of danger.
“They can’t follow us,” Adam said. “At least, I don’t think they can.”
Nick didn’t look away from the road. Quinn was a heavy weight against him, buckled into the middle bench seat. He had a pretty good sense that she was drooling on his shoulder.
“How do you know?”
“I disabled their bikes. Maybe.”
Nick looked over. “How did you do that?”
Adam shrugged, and it looked like he was trying to hide a smile. “Yanked some wires. I don’t know.”
Nick smiled. “Smart.”
Adam snorted, and his voice turned a bit self-deprecating. “Yeah, not too bad for a ‘couple of fags,’ huh?” Before Nick could say anything to that, Adam looked over again. “Sorry to drag you into that. The guy sounded okay on the phone.”
“I’m just glad Quinn wasn’t hurt.” Though she smelled like a frigging distillery.
“Are you okay?”
Nick shrugged. He could already feel swelling starting on his jaw, and blood was a bitter taste on the side of his tongue. “It’s not the first time I’ve been hit, and it probably won’t be the last. I’ll be all right.” Gabriel would probably shit a brick when he got home, though.
“He was going to hit me,” said Adam, and there was something like wonder in his voice.
“I’m happy to hit you if you feel like you’re missing out on the full experience.”
“No, just—” Adam hesitated. “Thanks.”
Nick shrugged again, uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to being the rescuer. “I wasn’t trying to fight him. I thought I could talk him down.”
“Still. No one’s ever done that for me.”
Nick didn’t know what to say to that. Then Adam’s cell phone chimed, and that was enough to distract him from the conversation.
“Wow,” said Adam. “It’s from that guy on the beach. He said he’s sorry his friend got out of control.”
“I’m surprised he’s not begging us not to press charges.”
Adam looked at him. Nick could feel the weight of his eyes in the darkness. “Do you want to?”
Nick shook his head. The last thing he needed to do was draw attention to his family. To say nothing of dragging Quinn into it. She had enough problems.
Adam’s cell phone chimed again, and he read off the screen. “He says he has a little sister, and he took care of her, so he wanted to look after Quinn. He says neither of them hurt her.” A pause, another chime, and Adam guffawed. “He asked if we’d give her his number.”
Nick snorted. “I’m surprised he can text coherently, as hammered as they were.”
“I think there’s a fair bit of autocorrect going on. Every time he tries to say her name, it says Quinine.”
Nick laughed outright at that.
But then he sobered when he glanced over and found Adam staring at him.
Nick knew that look. It was how girls sometimes looked at him, with cartoon hearts practically exploding from their eyes.
It was unnerving.
With girls, he could smile back. Flirt. A glance here, a touch there, a teasing word. It cost him nothing, and it was what everyone expected.
Right now, it left him breathless and uncertain. Because what everyone expected was in direct contradiction with what he wanted.
He locked his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road. “You’ll have to tell me where you live again.”
Adam must have noticed the sharpness in his voice, because he gave the return directions flatly, reciting his address by rote. The hearts were gone from his eyes, and he was studying the windshield with almost as much focus as Nick.
Nick didn’t like that.
He dulled the edge in his tone. “You sure you don’t mind her sleeping it off at your place?”
“Nah,” said Adam quietly. “It’s nothing.”
Adam lived in a basement apartment at one of the aging brick complexes on the edge of Annapolis. The apartment was small, practically an efficiency. One bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen–living room–dining room combo. All beige carpet, white walls with dark photography prints everywhere, and minimal furniture. A tiny two-seater kitchen table was tucked into the corner by the oven, and there was a couch and an end table, but no television. Just piles of books everywhere. Cluttered, but neat and orderly.
Adam glanced between him and the guys on the beach. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
Nick wasn’t sure, either. He wasn’t a fighter, not really. And what was he going to do? Suffocate them? Freeze them to death? Blast them with sand?
“It’s all right,” said the light-haired guy. He still had a death grip on his friend, but his words had a hint of slur. “Take her home. I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“Yeah,” said Nick. “Looks like it.” But he glanced at Adam and took a step toward the trail. Adam met his eyes, and they shared a moment of silent agreement.
Adam didn’t want to fight, either.
And that was refreshing.
The dark-haired guy swore. “I’m going to kill those—”
“Run,” said Nick.
Adam ran. Nick was right behind him.
And then they were tearing through the darkness, leaping into the truck.
And then they were gone.
CHAPTER 5
Nick had to fight to keep the truck near the speed limit. He kept checking the rearview mirror, looking for motorcycles or any sign of danger.
“They can’t follow us,” Adam said. “At least, I don’t think they can.”
Nick didn’t look away from the road. Quinn was a heavy weight against him, buckled into the middle bench seat. He had a pretty good sense that she was drooling on his shoulder.
“How do you know?”
“I disabled their bikes. Maybe.”
Nick looked over. “How did you do that?”
Adam shrugged, and it looked like he was trying to hide a smile. “Yanked some wires. I don’t know.”
Nick smiled. “Smart.”
Adam snorted, and his voice turned a bit self-deprecating. “Yeah, not too bad for a ‘couple of fags,’ huh?” Before Nick could say anything to that, Adam looked over again. “Sorry to drag you into that. The guy sounded okay on the phone.”
“I’m just glad Quinn wasn’t hurt.” Though she smelled like a frigging distillery.
“Are you okay?”
Nick shrugged. He could already feel swelling starting on his jaw, and blood was a bitter taste on the side of his tongue. “It’s not the first time I’ve been hit, and it probably won’t be the last. I’ll be all right.” Gabriel would probably shit a brick when he got home, though.
“He was going to hit me,” said Adam, and there was something like wonder in his voice.
“I’m happy to hit you if you feel like you’re missing out on the full experience.”
“No, just—” Adam hesitated. “Thanks.”
Nick shrugged again, uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to being the rescuer. “I wasn’t trying to fight him. I thought I could talk him down.”
“Still. No one’s ever done that for me.”
Nick didn’t know what to say to that. Then Adam’s cell phone chimed, and that was enough to distract him from the conversation.
“Wow,” said Adam. “It’s from that guy on the beach. He said he’s sorry his friend got out of control.”
“I’m surprised he’s not begging us not to press charges.”
Adam looked at him. Nick could feel the weight of his eyes in the darkness. “Do you want to?”
Nick shook his head. The last thing he needed to do was draw attention to his family. To say nothing of dragging Quinn into it. She had enough problems.
Adam’s cell phone chimed again, and he read off the screen. “He says he has a little sister, and he took care of her, so he wanted to look after Quinn. He says neither of them hurt her.” A pause, another chime, and Adam guffawed. “He asked if we’d give her his number.”
Nick snorted. “I’m surprised he can text coherently, as hammered as they were.”
“I think there’s a fair bit of autocorrect going on. Every time he tries to say her name, it says Quinine.”
Nick laughed outright at that.
But then he sobered when he glanced over and found Adam staring at him.
Nick knew that look. It was how girls sometimes looked at him, with cartoon hearts practically exploding from their eyes.
It was unnerving.
With girls, he could smile back. Flirt. A glance here, a touch there, a teasing word. It cost him nothing, and it was what everyone expected.
Right now, it left him breathless and uncertain. Because what everyone expected was in direct contradiction with what he wanted.
He locked his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road. “You’ll have to tell me where you live again.”
Adam must have noticed the sharpness in his voice, because he gave the return directions flatly, reciting his address by rote. The hearts were gone from his eyes, and he was studying the windshield with almost as much focus as Nick.
Nick didn’t like that.
He dulled the edge in his tone. “You sure you don’t mind her sleeping it off at your place?”
“Nah,” said Adam quietly. “It’s nothing.”
Adam lived in a basement apartment at one of the aging brick complexes on the edge of Annapolis. The apartment was small, practically an efficiency. One bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen–living room–dining room combo. All beige carpet, white walls with dark photography prints everywhere, and minimal furniture. A tiny two-seater kitchen table was tucked into the corner by the oven, and there was a couch and an end table, but no television. Just piles of books everywhere. Cluttered, but neat and orderly.
