CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Marcus gave me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his gaze fixed on Reid as he answered.

“Saving your ass, apparently. I didn't know we had company.”

I looked between him and Reid, confusion prickling at the back of my mind. “Oh, I thought you two know each other? Reid is the reason I'm still alive, if I'm being honest.”

Marcus didn't respond. Not a single word to acknowledge Reid’s presence. Instead, he shifted his attention to the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. Reid, seemingly unfazed, followed his lead, both of them watching the road for any sign of the remaining bikers.

“I thought you two knew each other?” I asked, this time directing my question to Reid.

“We do,” Reid said with a grin that could only be described as infuriatingly smug. “But I'm guessing he doesn't fancy seeing you alone with me, given that I'm exceptionally handsome.”

I rolled my eyes at his audacity. “Please. Marcus couldn't care less. He probably just wasn't expecting to see you here.”

“Maybe,” Reid said, his tone light. “But right now, we've got more important things to worry about. They're regrouping. I just hope lover boy over there has a plan.”

“Lover—what?” I started to argue, but Reid cut me off, leaning across me to shout at Marcus.

“Yo, Marcus, got a plan?”

“I guess I still have to do everything myself while you take the credit,” Marcus grumbled, his words barely audible over the sound of the wind rushing past.

Reid burst out laughing, and I nudged him with my elbow. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“It's an inside joke,” Reid replied with a shrug. “You wouldn't get it.”

I gave him a skeptical look. To Reid, it might have been a joke, but the way Marcus's jaw tightened told me otherwise. Whatever history these two shared, it wasn't something they were keen on revisiting. I let it go though, as my focus shifted to the first biker breaking through the traffic behind us.

“Um, guys, what's the plan? They're catching up.”

Marcus pulled closer to our car, his voice sharp and commanding. “I've unlocked the doors. I'm going to pull ahead and open mine. As soon as I do, you jump in, got it?”

“But what about Reid?” I asked, glancing at him for reassurance.

“He can take care of himself,” Marcus said through clenched teeth.

I turned to Reid, expecting some kind of protest, but instead, he reached over and unhooked my seatbelt.

“I'll serve as the decoy. Go with him.” Reid said.

“What about you?” I protested, my chest tightening with worry.

“I'll be fine,” he assured me. “I'll lead them back to the mansion. It'll be easier to make them call it off once they've lost track of their target.”

I shook my head, glancing back at Marcus, who had been staring at us instead of the road. He didn't say a word as he looked away from me and pulled forward, positioning his car in place.

“Now would be the perfect time to jump,” Reid said, his tone calm, despite the urgency in his words. “It's dark enough to mask the switch, and the cars on the road will block most of their view. So, anytime now.”

My heart pounded as I gripped the wrench in my hand tighter, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. Swallowing my fear, I opened my door, letting it slam against Marcus's before leaping into the backseat of his car.

The instant I landed, pain tore through my side—sharp and searing, stealing my breath. A fraction of a second later, the crack of a gunshot split the air, its echo swallowing everything else.

I barely had time to process what had happened before a biker sped past, slamming into the open doors and crashing to the ground. Relief washed over me, thinking I had made it just in time.

“Osborn, are you okay?” Marcus asked, his voice trembling slightly as he glanced back at me.

“I'm fine, Marcus. I made it just in ti—” My words caught in my throat as I felt something warm trickling down my side.

I looked down slowly, my breath hitching when I saw the dark stain spreading across my shirt. My fingers trembled meeting the torn fabric, now sticky with blood.

“Holy shi—” Marcus started, but his words cut off as another biker pulled up beside us. The man reached through my open window, locking an arm around Marcus's neck in a vicious headlock.

“Marcus!” I screamed. The car veered sharply, nearly colliding with a vehicle coming up fast behind us. The horn blared, and the driver shouted curses, but Marcus couldn't respond—he was too busy trying to wrestle free and keep the car steady.

Pain flared in my side, but I ignore it, gripping the wrench tighter. I swung it hard at the biker's arm. He howled out in pain but didn't let go.

“Let him go!” I yelled, raising the wrench for another strike. The man released Marcus, his free hand darting up to catch the wrench mid-swing.

Marcus, now free, didn't waste a second. He swung back, his fist smashing into the biker's face with a force that sent the man reeling. The bike wobbled violently, veering into the next lane before collapsing onto the asphalt.

The screech of tires and the metallic crunch that followed made my stomach churn. An oncoming car hit the fallen biker, the sickening sound of impact forcing bile to rise in my throat. I turned away, swallowing hard to keep it down.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked again, his eyes flickering to me in the rearview mirror.

I shook my head weakly, gesturing for him to focus on the road.

“I'll be fine. Just–just watch where you're going.”

“Hold still,” Marcus said, his voice tight with worry. “I'm taking you to the hospital.”

“They'll follow us,” I argued, my voice barely above a whisper.

“There's only a few left following us. I can handle them. Getting you patched up is the priority.”

I nodded, my vision blurring as exhaustion crept over me.

“Press harder on the wound, Osborn. Don't you dare close your eyes.”

I pressed my hand firmy to my side, feeling the sticky warmth of blood still trickling against my palm. The dizziness grew stronger, but I fought to stay awake.

Marcus weaved through traffic like a madman, the sound of blurring horns and screeching tires filling the air. I wanted to apologize to every driver we passed, but my body felt like it was shutting down.

“Almost there,” Marcus said, his voice distant. “Hang on, Osborn. Just a little longer.”

I tried to nod but couldn't muster the energy. My fingers slipped from my grip on his seat, my body growing heavier with every passing second.

The last thing I remembered was Marcus pulling me from the car, his arms strong and steady as he cradled me against his chest. His lips moved, but his voice was muffled, lost to the growing darkness.

I blinked once.

Twice.

And then everything went black.