“He said they’re headed south on Broadway, they’d just crossed twelfth street when he hung up.” Maverick debriefs Syn and me on the situation while speeding down Broadway. We cross over tenth street, and he hits the gas a little harder.
Five minutes before Marak called, the three of us were scattered around our living room talking about Taylor and what we should do.
“Okay, you two can dance around this shit all you want, but I’ll just come out and fucking say it,” Syn huffs. “I want to give this thing a shot. This weird ass relationship where we all date Taylor. I want in.”
“What made you come to a decision? You were the most against it less than a month ago,” Maverick muses though he doesn’t sound upset.
Syn shrugs and glances away from us. “She did. Being with her, being around her did. I don’t want to let her go, and I refuse to hurt my family. It’s the only solution, and I know it because if there was another option, Maverick would have thought of it by now. He does nothing but think of solutions to shit.”
I grin because he’s right. Maverick is the thinker, and he’d have come up with another idea if there was a good one.
Maverick drops back in his chair and pulls the tie from his hair. He shakes it out, then ties it back up again—his nervous tick. “Okay, we need Marak here. We should wait until Taylor heads to bed tonight, then all four of us can talk about it. We can’t make any decisions or plan anything without him.”
The phone rang before any of us could say another word.
Syn can’t sit still in the back seat, and for once, I’m in the same position. We need to get to Marak and Taylor before that crazy son of a bitch. I can’t lose my brother or the girl I’ve fallen in love with. It makes me sick even considering what could happen if we don’t.
We round the corner after we cross fifteenth street, and Maverick stomps on the breaks which brings us to a screeching halt. I’ve never been one for denial, but when I see the truck Taylor and Marak drove upside-down in a ditch and an empty SUV with the tires blown out a few feet away, I want to deny it’s real.
Marak’s truck is crushed beyond repair. The roof is caved in, and every window is shattered. If not for the license plate, I may not have recognized it. The truck isn’t the worst part of the horrific scene, though. It’s the man dragging Taylor’s limp body to a different nearby SUV.
“No!” Syn doesn’t falter. He jumps out of the vehicle before Maverick or I can react. He draws his gun and takes the shot without hesitation. He hits the man directly in the back of the head. The guy drops to the ground and takes Taylor with him. The SUV peels out, tires screeching against the concrete. Still, they manage to gain speed by the second as they fade from view.
Maverick and I reach Syn at the same time. Maverick pulls him toward Marak’s truck. “We need to check on him. Make sure he’s okay. Allistar, go check on Taylor.”
Syn nods numbly and allows me to go to Taylor while Maverick pulls him to the truck.
When I reach Taylor, I find her in bad shape. Blood pours down the side of her face from the large gash on her forehead. Part of the snapped bone in her arm shows through the broken skin. Cuts and bruises cover most of her body.
Being dropped jostled her enough to wake her. She pulls herself into an awkward half leaning, half sitting position. She stares with impossibly wide eyes at the man on the ground who no longer has half of his skull. The guys and I know what this looks like, we’ve witnessed it and worse. Taylor should never have to see it, though.
I pull her into my arms, but she startles me when she fights my hold on her. “Don’t touch me! Let me go!” She screams and thrashes so much that I have to set her back down. Her injuries can’t handle the movement.
“Taylor, it’s me. It’s Allistar.” My words don’t register with her. She draws her knees up, curling herself into a ball and gasping for air. It worries me because I don’t know if she has any damage to her lungs from the crash.
Syn runs to us, probably because he heard Taylor’s screams. “What happened?” He crouches next to us, automatically reaching out for Taylor. She flinches away from his touch, shaking her head and murmuring over and over to leave her alone.
“Baby, let me help you. You’re hurt,” Syn pleads, but she refuses to let us touch her. His mouth hardens into a straight line. “She’s in shock.”
Sirens in the distance signal help is on the way, but it doesn’t make any of this okay.
“Syn, where’s Marak? Is he okay?” The way Syn looks at me, he doesn't need to answer. I know it’s bad, but I don’t know how bad. If he didn’t make it, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“Baby?” While Syn addresses Taylor, my mind spins, wondering what happened to Marak. “Baby, answer me! Damn it, open your eyes.”
My attention snaps back to Taylor. She’s slumped over in Syn’s arm as he struggles to hold her up. The violent shakes wracking her body moments ago have stopped, and her eyes are closed. She’s too still again, and this time, she doesn’t wake up. That prick dropped her, and it woke her before. Now, nothing Syn does will bring her around. Her breaths continue to come in short, harsh gasps.
As the ambulances and other officers pull up to the scene, Maverick yells for Syn, “He stopped breathing, Syn!”
There’s a good chance we lost two people we love at once. My usually calm mood fades away into complete panic. What the hell are we going to do if they don’t make it?