Finally, I get sick of waiting, so I call Axle. He answers almost immediately.
“Gotta call you back, man.”
“The hell you do. What’s going on?”
“Seriously, Drex, I can’t talk right now. Got blues all over and trying to get close enough to find out what happened.”
A prickling sensation assaults my back like thousands of tiny needles are all jabbing in at once.
“Axle, what the fuck?” I growl, while grabbing a shirt to pull on.
“Don’t come out here, Drex. Just stay put. We’ll call you the second we can get close enough to talk to Drake without blues noticing us.”
Bile rises to my throat as I sling my door open, carrying my boots in my hand as I jog down the stairs.
“Axle, where are y—”
All the background noise cuts out, letting me know the line just went dead, and I refrain from slamming my phone against the wall. He just kept saying Drake. Not Eve. Which is either good or really fucking bad. Why wouldn’t he mention Eve? Is she home safe? Is… I can’t even think of the other option. No fucking way is she dead. Hell to the fuck no.
I got her out of here. I have people watching her until I know for certain she’s safe. I did everything right—everything that was best for her even if it has been fucking killing me.
“Rush!”
He pushes off from the wall when he hears me, and he tilts his head. “Grab one of the dark tinted cars and some keys. Probably best if I don’t drive right now.”
The rain is pounding outside; the last thing I need to fucking do is get myself killed trying to get to Eve. Who will be tucked safely into her shitty room when I get there or someone will fucking die.
Rush is a rain driver. He’s definitely the fastest on a wet road even when the normal person can’t see four inches in front of them because the downpour is so thick.
“What’s going on?” he asks as soon as I join him outside, rushing to one of the cars parked near the front.
He unlocks it, and we get in. I answer him while stabbing my feet into my boots.
“Drive to Eve’s. Fast. Just don’t get us killed.”
He’s spinning out in reverse and slinging us around the second the words are out. I grip the door until he levels us out, then I resume lacing my damn boots up.
“What’s going on?” he asks calmly, even though I feel him weaving in and out of traffic.
“I don’t know, but apparently there are cops and Drake is hard to get to. Axle didn’t elaborate.”
I raise up just as we hit midtown, blazing through the streets. I can’t see a fucking thing, but Rush is barreling along like it’s clear skies. Hence the reason he’s the one driving.
It seems like we’ve been on the road forever, but I know it hasn’t been that long, thanks to the bright clock taunting me. We fly by the tattoo parlor, and I glimpse it enough to know it’s not the problem, since not a car is in sight there.
Right as we near the shitty motel, my stomach slams into my toes, and Rush slows the car down. Patrol cars are everywhere, and with the rain, all I can see is the blue lights with no fucking other visibility.
“Oh fuck,” Rush hisses, apparently seeing something I don’t as he hops out of the car.
I follow him, cursing the unnatural flow of unrelenting rain, and run behind him until we’re stopped at a line where the cops are keeping everyone back. It’s then I see a massive truck has collided with a car… Drake’s Mustang. Or what’s left of Drake’s Mustang.
The driver’s side is smashed in, the car is upside down, and the windows are mostly broken. I try to break past the line, but I’m pushed back by a cop who threatens me.
Someone drags me back from behind, and I turn around ready to swing until I see it’s Axle. And he doesn’t look happy.
“They took Drake to the hospital. Dash is on his way there,” he says loudly, trying to make his voice carry over the rain that is pounding against us. “He was out cold, so I didn’t get to talk to him.”
He’s thoroughly soaked, and I’m getting there fast.
“What are you doing here?” I yell.
“Waiting on you. I knew you wouldn’t fucking stay put.”
“Eve? Where is she?” I almost don’t want to know the answer. In fact, my stomach is churning with dread and fear, and my heartbeat is in my ears.
He hasn’t mentioned her, and Drake’s house is past the motel. That means he hadn’t dropped her off yet.
“That’s the problem, Drex,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “We don’t fucking know.”
Chapter 17
EVE
My wrists are hurting where the rough twine is binding my hands behind my back. The chair I’m in has my legs strapped in place, holding them individually at each chair leg. And there’s some disgusting tasting gag in my mouth that I swear they’ve used to wipe motor oil up with.