Death was all around me.
I wanted to cry.
Scream.
Break down.
But most of all, I wanted revenge.
Flashing lights in my rearview mirror illuminated the inky blackness I’d been driving through.
“Fuck,” I cursed.
I considered putting my foot down. It felt heavy, ready to press down on the gas and speed away from the law. From everything.
Grief and anger may have warped my thoughts, but it didn’t take them away completely.
I slowed, pulling off the road and onto the shoulder. I had been so close, just outside of Amber’s limits, which meant I was going to be out of the watchful eye of anyone patrolling the place.
I had been thinking of the club, not the law.
I didn’t even attempt to hide the gun laying heavily on the passenger seat. I had a permit. I was also a Fletcher. No cop would fuck with me.
Not any day.
Not today of all days.
I stared forward, winding down my window as dirt crunched beneath the feet of the approaching officer.
I didn’t let myself think it was him.
Didn’t let myself hope.
I prayed it wasn’t.
God had been looking the other way for the past twenty-five hours, so he didn’t hear my prayer. A light illuminated my car and I squinted, accustomed to the darkness surrounding me, in both my exterior and interior worlds.
“Jesus, Rosie,” Luke snapped.
I glared up at him and saw his furious eyes were focused on the gun in my passenger seat.
“Get out of the car,” he ordered.
I clenched my hands on the steering wheel. “I haven’t broken any laws, wasn’t speeding. I’m not sure why you need me to do that, Officer.” I was horrified to notice that my voice was disembodied, mimicking that empty and emotionless tone that Bull had employed before he tore half the hospital room to the ground.
I flinched.
Before Laurie died.
My hands tightened to the point of pain. Or what I imagined might’ve been pain if I wasn’t focusing on the hot agony pulsing from my heart, pumping poison to every inch of me.
“Rosie, get out of the fucking car!” Luke bellowed.
The sound echoed over the deserted road, seeming to travel up to the heavens with its ferocity.
But the heavens were currently closed for business.
Hell, on the other hand, was open and here on earth.
I’d never, not in my entire life, heard Luke yell like that. Heard him inject so much fury into a sentence. It scared me enough to get out of the car. As soon as I did, Luke slammed the door shut so I was backed right up against the vehicle.
He boxed me in, eyes glowing like a wild animal’s under the illumination of his patrol car’s headlights.
“Tell me you’re not going to get yourself killed too,” he whispered.
I didn’t flinch at the mention of it. The shadow following me around, like a stalker, lying in wait, watching me, waiting for me to acknowledge him.
“Where I’m going is none of your concern,” I said, my voice still not my own.
The flat of his palm slammed down on the roof of my car in a fury I’d never seen.
From anyone.
Maybe because fury, even uncontrolled fury, wasn’t surprising when it came from someone like Cade.
Like Bull.
But from Luke, who normally locked down such emotions, who was all about calm and order, it seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth beneath us.
“I beg to fucking differ. You going out to your death is a great fucking concern,” he yelled.
He did it again. Mentioned the D word.
I had to acknowledge it now. Its ears had perked up, it had leaned forward, rancid breath at the back of my neck.
“It’s not my death I’m going out to meet,” I whispered, like if I said it low enough, maybe it wouldn’t hear me.
Luke stared at me, eyes still glowing in the light like a lion’s, but the fury retreating to its cage. “Rosie, you know I can’t let you do that.”
“You have to,” I choked. “You have to let me do it because there’s nothing else I can do! I’m bleeding. My family is bleeding. Everything is Fucked Up. I have to fix it.”
The hand that brutally slammed down on the roof of my car gently caressed my cheek. I didn’t even have it in me to feel anything at the contact. All of my feelings about Luke before that day seemed so far away, locked in another room of my mind.
“Baby, you can’t fix it,” he whispered, hurt rippling through his words.
“But I have to!” I screamed, rebelling against the still, the quiet. It could get me there. Death. I tried to escape him, tried to get back into my car. Luke’s caress became a restraint, stopping me from moving. “I have to!” I screamed again, pounding at his chest. “You need to let me go. I need to fix it. I need to….”