Chapter 24 Chapter 24
Chapter 24
SELENE
Fear spiked through my chest. This wasn't paranoia. This was real.
I pressed harder on the gas, trying to put distance between myself and my pursuers. But they matched my speed easily, boxing me in. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles went white.
Who were these people? What did they want?
The SUV behind me suddenly accelerated, closing the distance. I watched in the rearview mirror, horrified, as it came closer and closer—
The impact was devastating.
The SUV rear-ended me with enough force to make my head snap back, my whole body jolting against the seatbelt. I screamed, fighting to keep control of the car as it swerved wildly.
"No, no, no—" I yanked the steering wheel, trying to straighten out, but the SUV hit me again, harder this time.
The car spun. I saw the concrete barrier of the highway rushing toward me, saw the other SUV swerving to cut me off. There was nowhere to go, no way to avoid—
I hit the barrier with a sickening crunch of metal. The car jumped, went airborne for a heart-stopping second, then came down hard on its side. The world turned into a kaleidoscope of motion and sound—glass shattering, metal screaming, my own voice crying out in terror.
The car flipped. Once. Twice. Three times. Each rotation felt like it lasted forever and no time at all. My body was thrown against the seatbelt, held in place only by that thin strip of fabric as everything around me became chaos.
Finally, mercifully, the car stopped rolling. I hung upside down, suspended by my seatbelt, the world inverted and wrong. Blood dripped into my eyes—I must have hit my head on something during the crash.
Pain radiated through my body, sharp and overwhelming. My ribs ached with every breath. My left arm hung at a wrong angle, probably broken. But worst of all was the cramping in my abdomen, the wet warmth spreading between my legs.
No. No, please, no.
My hands—shaking, bloody—moved to my stomach. When I pulled them away, they were covered in blood. Too much blood.
"The baby," I sobbed. "Please, not the baby."
I heard car doors slamming, footsteps approaching. Through the shattered windshield, I could see legs, dark pants and heavy boots. My attackers. Coming to finish what they'd started.
I needed help. Needed Derek. Whatever our problems, whatever secrets he was keeping, he was still my husband. He'd help me. He had to help me.
I fumbled for my purse, which had fallen somewhere in the wreckage. My fingers finally closed around the strap and I dragged it toward me, ignoring the sharp pain in my broken arm. My phone. I needed my phone.
I found it wedged between the seat and the center console, the screen cracked but still functioning. With trembling, blood-slicked fingers, I dialed Derek's number.
It rang once. Twice. Pick up, please pick up, please—
"Selene?" His voice sounded surprised. He never expected me to call him in the middle of the day.
"Derek—" My voice came out weak, choked with pain and fear. "Help me. Please, I need—"
A hand reached through the shattered window and ripped the phone from my grasp. I cried out, trying to grab it back, but my broken arm wouldn't cooperate.
Through the phone's speaker, I heard Derek's voice, sharp with concern now. "Selene? Selene, what's happening? Where are you?"
The phone was crushed beneath a boot. The man who'd taken it crouched down, peering in at me through the broken windshield. He was wearing a black ski mask, his eyes the only visible feature—cold, empty, devoid of mercy.
"Please," I begged, tears streaming down my face mixing with the blood. "I'm pregnant. Please don't hurt my baby."
The man didn't respond. He straightened and gestured to someone else. I heard the groan of metal being wrenched, then the driver's side door—or what was left of it—was torn completely off the car and flung aside like it weighed nothing.
Through my pain and terror, some part of my brain registered that this wasn't normal. That shouldn't have been possible. The door was crushed, twisted—it would have taken tools, time, incredible strength to remove it. But this man had just ripped it away with his bare hands as easily as opening a can of soda.
There are things about our family, about what we are, that you don't know.
Rosalie's words echoed in my mind as rough hands grabbed me, releasing the seatbelt and dragging me from the wreckage. I screamed, both from the pain and from the horrible understanding that was beginning to dawn.
These people—whatever they were—they weren't human. Or not entirely human. Just like Derek wasn't entirely human.
They hauled me upright, and my legs couldn't support my weight. Everything hurt. Everything was wrong. The cramping in my abdomen was getting worse, and I knew—I knew with horrible certainty—that I was losing the baby.
"No," I sobbed. "Please, no. Not the baby. Please."
One of the masked men—there were three of them, I could see now—spoke for the first time. His voice was rough, accent I couldn't place. "Get her in the vehicle. We need to move before Sterling tracks the phone signal."
They dragged me toward one of the black SUVs. I tried to fight, tried to struggle, but I was too weak, too hurt. My vision was blurring, darkness creeping in at the edges.
As they shoved me toward the back of the SUV, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the tinted window. I looked like something from a nightmare—covered in blood, my dress torn, my hair matted and wild. I didn't recognize myself.
The rear door opened, revealing the dark interior of the trunk space. No seats, just empty cargo area lined with plastic sheeting. They were going to throw me in there like a piece of luggage.
"Please," I tried one more time, my voice barely a whisper now. "The baby..."
"Should have thought of that before you married into the Sterling pack," one of them said coldly.
Pack. The word registered even through my fading consciousness. Pack, like wolves.
They shoved me into the trunk, my body hitting the plastic sheeting with a painful thud. I tried to curl into myself, to protect my stomach even though I knew it was too late. The cramping was unbearable, the blood flow increasing.
I was losing my baby. Right here, right now, in the back of a stranger's vehicle, I was losing the child I'd been protecting, planning for, promising a better future.
The darkness at the edges of my vision was spreading, consuming everything. I heard the trunk slam shut, felt the vehicle start moving, but it all seemed distant, unreal.
Derek's face swam before my eyes—not the cold, distant man from the gala, but the boy from the photos in his study. Young, happy, unburdened by obligation and secrets. What would he think when he found out what happened? Would he care that I was gone? Would he mourn the child he'd never wanted?
I'm sorry, I tried to say, though I don't know if the words made it past my lips. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you.
Please let someone find me. Please let Derek care enough to look.
And then there was nothing but black.