Kissing Killian (Face-Off Legacy/Campus Kings 5)

It’s as if my life is flashing before me as Chase drives onto the bridge. I can see it all so perfectly and don’t want it to end. Holding onto the door handle, I close my eyes and pray he can make the jump from one side of the small bridge to the other. About fifty feet below us is a shallow body of water, so while we won’t drown, we also might hit the bottom of the valley and die on impact.

“Shit, it’s not gonna hold,” Chase growls.

Like an idiot, he slowly attempts to get to the other side. The cops were smart enough not to follow his dumb ass, so at least we have that advantage.

“I told you,” I snap.

The wooden bridge is too old, too unstable to support our weight. One tire falls through the opening in the planks, and before Chase can floor the gas one last time, the car drops through, the bridge breaking in half. Pieces of wood snap as if they’re exploding around us.

We’re falling.

Falling so fast I shut my eyes.

When the car hits the ground, it rolls onto the passenger side, and my face smashes against the glass that breaks. Shards dig into my cheek combined with a searing pain that shoots up my arm followed by a snapping sound that must be a bone. When I try to move my arm, it has no feeling, it’s as if it is broken in a dozen places.

Chase climbs out of the car, and then reaches his hand in for me to grab it. With only one arm that’s of any use, I take Chase’s hand and force him to pull most of my body weight out of the car. We fall onto the ground together, and I let out a sigh of relief, though I’m in so much pain my entire body is numb.

“My arm is broken.” Picking the small fragments of glass from my face with my other hand, I demonstrate for Chase.

His eyes widen when he sees my right arm is hanging lifeless at my side. “Do you think you can make it up there?” He points to a small hill where we were initially headed.

“I don’t know.” It’s the truth.

“I don’t care if I have to carry you up there,” he says, leading the way. “We’re fucked if we don’t get out of here. Thank God this is a creek and not a fucking river.”

“I probably wouldn’t have a fucked-up face and a broken arm if it was.”

He shakes his head, smirking. “No, we would’ve drowned in-fucking-stead.”

Police are on the other side of the ravine from us with their lights flashing and sirens sounding. From what I can tell, the side where the police are standing with their guns raised in the air is a different town, which makes where we’re going out of their jurisdiction. But that doesn’t mean a different police force won’t be waiting for us at the top of the hill.

Chase tells me to climb first so he can support my weight if I need his help. Using my left hand, I step onto the first rock. The lower portion is easier to navigate, and it’s not until we’re about halfway up that I need two hands.

“Here.” Chase moves in front of me to hold out his hand. “Just hang onto me, and I’ll try to pull you up the rest of the way.”

I’ve never felt more useless in my entire life. I’m always the one who has to take care of everyone else, not the other way around. The pain spreads throughout my body with each tug on my left arm. But it’s not long before we climb the rest of the way up to the top, at least in one piece.

We crash on a patch of grass, out of breath and dripping with sweat.

“You hurt at all?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just a few scratches.”

“At least one of us is whole.”

“You can’t go to the hospital,” he informs me, telling me something I already know. “We’ll have to call Rome’s cousin to look at that.” He points at my right arm and sighs. “We lost the Maserati. You’re fucked. And now all of us are fucked.”

I nod. “We need to find a replacement by morning, and I didn’t bring my laptop with me to check DMV records.”

He pushes himself up and extends his hand to me. “I’ll call Rome. He’ll figure it out.”

Stealing another car is the least of my problems. Whether or not we make it out of this alive and not wind up in jail, my hockey career is over.

The truth hurts. And right now I want to do anything other than admit to myself that my life is fucked. After Roman’s shady concierge doctor cast my arm, I had to deal with the fact I may never play hockey again. The doctor said it was broken in so many places he would be surprised if I ever regain a full range of motion in my right arm which means my career is fucking over.