Chapter 145

Chapter 145
Alina's POV

The moment the car door shut, the world outside was sealed away. Inside the cabin, it was so quiet that all I could hear was the faint hum of air rushing from the vents and the hiss of tires rolling over the wet road.

I sat in the back by the window, pressed against the door, keeping as much distance as I could between myself and Lowell. Outside, the streetlamps swept past my face in alternating flashes of light and dark, chopping the shadows inside the car into broken fragments. I kept my head turned toward the window, refusing to look at him.

But I could feel his gaze resting on me. In the front passenger seat sat a man I had never seen before—unfamiliar, likely one of the security men assigned to escort Lowell.

Spring had arrived by now, and the first cold rain of the season had begun to fall, thin and steady.

"Alina," Lowell spoke first. "Are you cold? There's a blanket in the back."

I didn't answer. I kept staring out the window, where the rain snaked down the glass in long thin trails, warping the streetscape beyond into blurred smears of color.

He was silent for a while. Then I felt his hand reach toward me. Just as his fingertips were about to brush the back of my hand, I pulled it away and set it on my knee.

Lowell's hand hung in the air for a moment before he withdrew it, saying nothing.

The car drove on. Outside, the city gradually gave way to the suburbs. The streetlamps grew farther apart, and the buildings on either side turned low and sparse.

The rain still drummed steadily against the roof. Lowell spoke again, as though he'd been searching hard for something to say. "There's a restaurant up ahead that's open all night. I ate there once—it wasn't bad. When this is all over, do you want to grab something to eat together?"

My fingers tightened around the fabric of my clothes. He thought we could still sit down and eat together, as if nothing had happened, at the same table, making small talk about things that didn't matter.

"Lowell," I finally said, unable to hold back. "Take me to see Antonio. Clear up what happened back then. And then you go your way, I'll go mine. Don't say anything else."

The air in the car went still for an instant. Lowell said nothing more.

A long while passed. Just when I thought he had given up, I heard him sigh softly, a rare weariness in his voice. "If you look at that evidence and still believe I lied to you—if you want to kill me—I won't even try to dodge."

I turned my head, my eyes falling on the side of his face. The streetlights flickered light and dark across his profile, stretching the shadow beneath his brow bone long and deep.

"Don't talk like that," I forced the words out through clenched teeth, hardening my heart. "If you really lied to me, do you think I wouldn't dare kill you?"

The words had barely left my mouth—before Lowell could answer—when a shrill scream of tearing metal exploded outside the window.

The shatter of glass and the muffled thud of bullets punching through the car door came almost at once. In that instant the front passenger window burst into countless tiny shards, pouring into the cabin like a hailstorm.

Fragments spattered across my face, cutting a thin, stinging line. I flinched instinctively—and the next second a hand seized my wrist and yanked me hard toward the side of the seat.

Lowell's body shielded me, his spine arched, his own frame walling me off from the shattering glass. The car lurched violently, tires shrieking against the slick pavement, and then the driver slammed the accelerator down. The engine let out a low roar as the car surged forward.

"Ambush!" the security man in the front barked, drawing a gun from his waist.

More bullets came at us from every direction. Some struck the hood and threw up sprays of sparks; others tore through the rear window, leaving smoking holes across the cabin. The gunfire drowned out the rain, and the whole space felt as though it had been ripped open, chaotic air flooding in and stealing away the last trace of warmth from my lungs.

"Get down!" Lowell's voice sounded in my ear. His hand pressed against the back of my head, forcing me down toward the floor beneath the seat.

The driver wrenched the wheel hard. The car fishtailed, tires skidding through the rain until the whole vehicle nearly went sideways. I heard the security man shout something—then another burst of gunfire, the shatter of glass, and a heavy, dull thud: the bodyguard's body slumped from his seat, blood running down through the crack of the cushion and dripping onto the floor by my feet.

The driver, too, was caught in the spray that followed—first a bullet to the head, then several more, his body riddled through as he slumped over the wheel and moved no more.

The car, now out of control, slammed into the guardrail at the roadside with an ear-splitting scrape of metal. Momentum flung my body forward, my forehead striking the back of the seat, and a burst of white light exploded before my eyes.

Lowell unbuckled his belt and kicked open the crumpled door. Then he reached out, hauled me up from the seat, and dragged and half-carried me out of the car.

Cold wind and rain poured into my lungs at once. I stumbled a couple of steps as he pulled me forward. Behind us came the pounding of footsteps and shouting voices—those men were closing in from different directions, bullets striking the ground and kicking up bursts of muddy water.

"Your people?!" Lowell's voice was breathless as we ran.

"My people?" He dragged me along by the wrist, and I staggered after him, my voice shaking—whether from fury or the cold, I couldn't tell. "I hate you, but not that much! Do you think I'd throw away my own life so carelessly?!"

He paused for an instant, and I felt his grip on my wrist tighten.

Just then a sharp gunshot pierced through the curtain of rain, coming from less than ten meters behind me.

Before I could react, Lowell's body suddenly twisted a step to my side, blocking the path the bullet had carved. His shoulder jerked in that instant, a muffled grunt swallowed low by the rain—but his grip on my wrist didn't loosen. If anything, it tightened.

"Lowell!" My voice shot up beyond my control. Rain mixed with a bitter sting flowed into my eyes, blurring the pale face before me.

He glanced down at me, dragging his lips into a smile, feigning ease. "This time, I believe you."

The rain kept falling. The footsteps behind us drew closer. We cut across a narrow dirt path, the earth beneath us softened and waterlogged, every step sinking down and pulling free again. Ahead lay a cliff face swallowed by the dark of night, the rock a damp, deep gray in the rain—and beyond it, nothing at all.

I could hear the shouts closing in behind us, the rain and the gunfire tangled together like a seamless net drawing tight around us. Lowell pulled me to a stop at the cliff's edge. He looked down over it—the night was too thick to see how deep the bottom fell, and all I could hear was the faint sound of water below, muffled beneath the rain.

"There's no way out," my voice trembled. Rain dripped from my chin. I glanced back once at the dark shapes bearing down on us, then turned again to face him.

"Jump," Lowell roared over the pounding rain, his body torn through with bullets. "With me. I won't let you die."

Before I could answer, he had already let go of my hand, gripping me around the waist instead, pulling my whole body into his arms.

He took a step back. The loose stones beneath his feet slid away with a rustle.

Weightlessness struck all at once. The wind, the rain, the gunfire—all of it was pulled into a distant, faraway hum. In the instant of the plunge I felt his arms cinch tighter, as if he were pouring every ounce of his strength into wrapping me against his chest.

It was over in a matter of seconds. Wrapped in his hold, my body slammed against the cliff wall—and I even heard the sound of Lowell's bones breaking.

"Lowell! Let go of me! You're going to die!"

I couldn't bear to think how many of his bones had already snapped. Everything he was doing was tearing me apart.

But his arms only drew tighter. I tried to struggle, then my head struck the rock, and in an instant everything went black as I fell unconscious.