Page 17 of Infinitely


  “Jax?” I call.

  He shields his eyes from the sun and glances up at me. “Yeah?”

  “Don’t get caught, man.”

  He bobs his head once before climbing into Kent’s car. As he pulls away, Flynn drops beside me, leaning against the other rail. I peer sideways at him. He looks like shit, but better than he did last night. I open the cooler in between my feet and get his shot of Penicillin ready.

  “I’m sorry,” I say as I jab the needle into his arm. His eyes meet mine, narrowing slightly. “For what happened to your parents. What happened to you. I never meant…” I wince through another cramp. My next breath doesn’t come as easy. My lungs feel constricted by the pain. But I keep talking. I need to say this.

  “I didn’t mean for you to get dragged into our mess. And I know an apology will never cover it, but I really am so fucking sorry.”

  Flynn doesn’t say anything. He shifts his gaze, staring out at the yard, but it doesn’t look like he’s seeing it.

  “And I want to thank you,” I go on. That gets his attention. His head swings back in my direction, his brows raised in a silent question.

  “For taking care of her when I was gone.” We both know how he took care of her. And we both know he never told her where I was or that I waited for her to contact me. But it doesn’t matter. She needed to move on and to find happiness. He did that for her and I’m grateful.

  “But just so we’re clear, no matter how deep I’m in your debt, if you ever point a gun in her direction again, I won’t hold back next time.”

  Nothing.

  There is nothing in his eyes as he stares back at me. After several beats, he tips his head, giving me a stiff nod. Then he pushes himself up and pads down the stairs to sit on the curb by himself.

  As I’m putting everything back into the cooler and closing it up, Briar takes a seat beside me. She doesn’t keep to the opposite side like Flynn did. Instead, her thigh lightly grazes mine. I can feel the heat coming off her skin and smell the fruity scent of her shampoo.

  “I love that sound,” she says, sighing contently. I don’t understand how she can sit next to me and find any kind of pleasure.

  “What sound?”

  She lifts her head up to the sky and closes her eyes. “The ocean.” She takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, as if she’s savoring it. “And that smell.”

  I stare at her profile, at her smooth skin, her long lashes resting on her cheeks, the tiny freckle on her lip, and I strain to hear what she hears.

  Her eyes open, catching me staring, but I don’t look away. And neither does she. “I can’t hear it,” I say. All I can make out is the thrumming in my eardrums that beats in time with the ache in my head.

  “It’s the waves. I can hear them splashing at the sand.” She squints, causing her nose to crinkle. It makes me want to smile—until she speaks again. “I’m sorry about your girlfriend.”

  My girlfriend.

  I look away as I’m assaulted by an onslaught of emotions, none of which I want to be feeling. “She wasn’t my girlfriend.” My head falls and I take a moment to glare at my boots. “She was once, I guess.”

  “But you still cared about her,” Briar says. It’s not a question and I have no reply, so I don’t say anything.

  I stare out at the small yard, inching my hand off my lap and sliding it into Briar’s. I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look at her again. I can’t. I’m afraid what I might see. She doesn’t pull away. As her fingers intertwine with mine, squeezing gently, I realize I’m holding on to my hope.

  27

  Briar

  I try not to feel anything. I tell myself it’s wrong. We’ve been surrounded by so much death and violence these past few days. To feel what I’m feeling right now is wrong. It’s so wrong.

  But maybe it’s because we’re in danger, because it’s been brutally obvious that none of us know how much time we have left, that I have this overwhelming desire to wrap my arms around Benji. I want to hold him close to me, kiss away his pain, and never let him go again.

  Tomorrow, I may not have this chance.

  An hour from now, I may not have this chance.

  I should just do it. I should grab this opportunity by the balls and confess to Benji how, even after all this time, he’s all I’ve thought about. That his touch makes my heart pound inside my chest. That I’m still in love with him. He’s changed. I’ve changed. But my feelings—they haven’t.

  I almost laugh at myself.

  Almost.

  Megan just died and here I am pouncing on Benji. What the hell is wrong with me?

  We stay this way, quietly holding onto one another until the small blue car Jax borrowed—unbeknownst to Kent—pulls in front of the house.

  Jax jumps out of the car. His expression twisted with alarm, his body radiating with panicked energy.

  “What’s the matter?” Benji questions immediately. He hasn’t released my hand and his harsh grip is making my fingers throb. Flynn stands up and heads toward us, picking up on the same thing I am—something’s wrong.

  “It could be nothing,” Jax says hesitantly. He looks over his shoulder, scanning the houses around us. “I saw a car—looked like Ethan’s.”

  “Where?” Benji hisses.

  “Who’s Ethan?” I ask.

  “A couple blocks over,” Jax says, ignoring me. “I think—they might have seen me.”

  “How?” Flynn asks. “How did they find us?”

  “I don’t know,” Benji murmurs. “We’ve been careful.”

  “Do you think Kent…?” Jax offers.

  Benji shakes his head. “No. He put us up all night. They’d be pissed he helped us.”

  “Unless it was an act,” Flynn replies.

  “No, man. He kicked us out,” Jax reminds him.

  “Cell phones,” I say. Four sets of eyes turn toward me at once. “Can they trace a cell phone?”

  “Yes,” Benji growls. “Why?”

  I don’t answer, but my gaze falls on Kameron. She clicks her tongue, popping a small bubble as she slips her cell from her pocket and looks down at it as if she’s never seen a phone before. Benji’s hand clasps mine too tightly. I flinch, ready to pull away, when he shoots up, pulling me with him.

  “You brought your phone?” he hisses.

  “I didn’t use it,” she says quickly, defending herself.

  Benji’s face falls. His head drops forward and he presses his palm against one eye. “It doesn’t matter if you used it or not. It can still be tracked.”

  “I’ll turn it off,” she offers, her voice quivering as she works the gum in her mouth nervously.

  “It’s too late.” His head pops up, moving from side to side as his eyes flick along the road. Searching. “They had all day to track it. We didn’t move all night.”

  As I watch the panic spread on his face, fear settles into my limbs. They found us.

  We’re going to die.

  Oh, my God. We’re going to die. They’re coming to kill us.

  Benji hands the cooler to Kameron before swinging his backpack onto his shoulder. He pauses, holding his hand out, palm up, in front of Kam, and wiggles his fingers. She drops the cell phone into his waiting hand. He rears back and tosses it hard. It hits the ground several yards away bouncing once before it shatters.

  “Come on,” he demands, “we have to get out of here.”

  “We’re taking his car?” Jax asks incredulously. “Let’s just hoof it to the motel like we planned.”

  Benji ignores him, pulling the back door open. He nudges Flynn in, takes the cooler from Kam, and shoves it in as well.

  “Dude, I’m not stealing his car,” Jaxon protests. “It’s bad enough we led them here. I’m not doing this.”

  Benji guides Kam in next, then pivots back, meeting Jax’s determined glare. “Your little girlfriend brought her phone along.” He grits his teeth and takes a noticeable breath. “Delphi’s guys could be here any second,” he states. “We don?
??t have time to take a morality test. Get the fuck in the car.”

  They both stand there with gazes locked, breathing hard. Finally, Jax takes a step back and lowers himself into the driver’s seat. Benji looks back, holding his hand out to me. “Come on.”

  “We need to warn Kent,” I say, backing away. The guy’s kind of an asshole, but Jax is right. We brought this to him. I don’t want him to die because of us.

  Benji matches my steps without missing a beat, even in his condition. “We’ll stop somewhere and call him.” He reaches for me again and I almost take his hand.

  And then I remember Kent doesn’t have a phone. I can feel the expression on my face. The shock that Benji doesn’t care about warning Kent. The shame I feel for him because of it. And the hurt that he so easily—so flawlessly—just lied to me.

  “Hard to call him when he doesn’t have a phone,” I breathe.

  He makes a noise, somewhere between a groan and a growl, and rubs his forehead. “I’ll go tell him once you get your ass in the car.”

  “You get in the car,” I say firmly. “I’ll be quicker.” I rush up the steps before he can stop me. I hear him yell my name as I open the door. I ignore him, hurrying inside and heading straight for Kent’s room. I raise my hand to knock when his door swings open.

  “What the fuck are you still doing here?”

  “We think Delphi may be on his way here for us.”

  Benji stumbles into the hallway, his eyes blazing with anger as he glowers at me. “We need to go,” he pants. “Now.”

  “You led him to my house, man?” Kent says as he pushes past me. “I knew I should have turned your sorry ass away.” He sticks his fingers into the blinds, pulling them apart to peer outside.

  “Motherfucker. How you gonna just take my car?”

  Benji grabs my hand and jerks me forward. “We’re going. Come with us or find somewhere to hide out. Or stay here for all I care, and work it out with Delphi. But we’re taking the car.”

  Before Kent can reply, the sound of squealing tires fills the room. Benji lunges forward, towing me behind him. He mimics Kent, spreading the blinds to look outside. I can see just enough to make out Kent’s car fishtailing out onto the road, the back door slapping shut with the movement.

  I push myself up next to Benji, looking out the window with horror. They left us, I think numbly as I watch another car speed by, giving chase.

  “Shit,” Benji breathes. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  At the end of the street, Jax pops a U-turn, swinging the car around. He darts past the other car in the opposite direction.

  “Go,” Benji pleads. “Just keep going Jax. Keep going.”

  And he does. He flies past the house, the tires kicking up dirt and gravel as he turns the corner. The other car is still turning around at the opposite end of the road.

  “Back door?” Benji demands as he grips Kent’s shoulder.

  “Patio door. In my room.”

  I don’t know if Kent follows us or not. Benji pulls me through the house, down the hallway, and into the bedroom. He flips the lock and slides the door sideways. “When we get out there, don’t look back, just run as fast as you can.” I think I nod. “You ready?”

  I shake my head. No. I’m not ready for any of this.

  He leans forward, sticking just enough of his head out to take a look around. It must be clear because the next thing I know, we’re outside, my feet pounding the ground. He guides us through some bushes, the thorny branches ripping at my clothes and dragging across my skin.

  We keep going, picking up speed. My backpack slams into my back with every hurried step. My pulse is pounding loudly in my ears as Benji slows us to a fast-paced walk. He ushers me in between two houses and we come out on a main road filled with tourists.

  “Blend in,” he utters. His face is red. Sweat is dripping from his nose and soaking his shirt. He can barely catch a breath. I’m afraid he’s going to collapse any second.

  “Maybe we should stop for a minute. You need a break.”

  “Not yet.”

  Benji’s grip tightens on my hand, towing me along.

  I stop. I don’t mean to, my feet just refuse to work. Benji tugs me into his side, his hand curling around my hip. “We need to keep going.”

  “What if they got them? We have to do something. We have to—”

  “Bri,” Benji murmurs. “Jax is probably on the highway, far away by now.”

  I want to believe him. I want to so badly. But there’s no way he can know that. I blink rapidly, trying to see through my tear-filled eyes.

  He presses his lips together as his gaze flicks over my face. “There’s nothing we can do right now. Once we get somewhere safe, then we can worry.” He shakes his head, his eyes falling away. “I still have some of the money your dad gave me. We can get a motel room and hold up for a day or two. I’m getting sicker.” He brushes a strand of hair away from my face and touches my chin before slipping his backpack off his shoulder. He slides mine off next, setting it on the ground beside his.

  “I’m going to be useless soon.”

  He takes his wallet out and places it inside of my bag, followed discreetly by the gun Kent gave him. “If we don’t find someplace in time, you leave me, and you keep going. You might need to use the gun at some point. If someone approaches you, and you’re not sure, shoot first, ask questions later. The safety’s on the left. When it’s on, you’ll see a small red dot. Flip the little switch upward to unlock it. If you forget which way, just try to remember, red is dead—the gun, and you if you don’t defend yourself.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” I insist as I take his hand and pull him to his feet. “I need you, Benji. I can’t do this alone. I hate guns and I don’t ever want to have to use one. Don’t make me.”

  He closes his eyes as if in pain. By my words or by his body’s reaction to the withdrawal, I don’t know. His fingers graze over my fingers and then he locks our hands together once again.

  28

  Benji

  I roll over, my hand landing on Briar’s stomach. She’s lying next to me, her head resting on the pillow, facing me. Her long, auburn hair trails off the opposite side. My fingers flex against her heated skin. She stirs and arches into my hand. Time stands still as her eyes flutter open and I’m met with that captivating green gaze. I know I should pull my hand back, but I can’t seem to find the motivation to move away from her.

  Briar’s lips part and I focus on her mouth. How much I want to lean in and taste it. Feel the warmth of her tongue against mine. Catch up on all the time we’ve missed.

  Something in her eyes changes as quickly as a switch being flipped. Something I can’t quite identify, but has me so turned on I might just act on my desires. Her hand slides down her body, coming to rest over mine. A beat passes, and then she begins inching my fingers under her shirt and up her smooth skin.

  The sweet sensation of touching her like this is consuming. It’s been so long… There was a time when this was all mine. A time when I would caress her skin every chance I could. When she wanted my hands on her as much as I did. Doing this now, after three years, it’s like coming home.

  The tips of my fingers remember exactly the right amount of pressure to leave goose bumps in their wake. Every crease in my hand recalls the path she wants to be traveled. My body is heating. The feel of her against my hand is exciting, exhilarating. But what has my heart pounding inside my chest and all my thoughts lost, is the overwhelming awareness of just how right this is.

  I haven’t felt love since the day I left her, but the abundance I feel now is so intense, I could almost cry.

  I love her. I’ve never stopped. Not for one second. And living without the one you love isn’t really living. It’s only surviving—passing each day. And I was barely doing that.

  But right now, I’m alive.

  She pauses our hands’ movement just under her breast. My palm is resting on her ribs. I can feel the swollen skin there. My thumb gl
ides back and forth gently. And then I lean into her, pressing my lips to hers. She opens for me immediately and I stroke her tongue with mine. A moan sounds in her throat and I instinctively echo it, answering her with my own pleasurable noise.

  She rolls us, pushing me onto my back as her leg sweeps over my hips until she’s straddling my thighs. Underneath her, I harden to the point of painfulness. I want this. I want her. And by the way she presses herself against me, releasing another moan, I know she wants me too.

  I could spend the rest of my life reliving this exact moment and be the happiest man in the world.

  “Benji.” She sighs my name and I feel it through my entire body.

  I shove my hands into her thick hair and guide her mouth back to mine. “I love you,” I whisper against her lips. I feel her smile back against mine. My heart is racing. Those tears I held back earlier threaten to spill again. This is all I ever wanted. All I ever wished for. This moment.

  Her hips grind against me and I can’t take much more. I want her so badly. I skim my hands down her sides, searching for the hem of her shirt, and lift it away. She raises her arms, allowing me to remove the fabric between us. I take a moment—just a second to relish in her beauty.

  She’s like a living, breathing angel on my lap.

  The door bursts open, slamming into the wall. Delphi stands in the doorway. The sun shines in around him, blotting out his features, but I know it’s him. It happens so fast. All I can do is watch in horror as he lifts his gun.

  “I love you, Benji,” Briar breathes just as the gun fires. Thick, warm blood sprays my face as Briar lurches forward from the force of the bullet.

  “NO,” I roar. “NO, no, no, no.”

  Delphi laughs as Briar’s body slumps in my arms. I hold her, draped across my legs, and scrub the hair out of her face. She stares up at me with lifeless eyes, the green fading away as her pupils dilate. Everything that makes her Briar slowly pales, growing fainter and fainter until there’s nothing left.

  She’s just a body, lying in a pool of blood. The metallic scent fills my lungs. Delphi’s cold laugh grows louder and louder. I blink the moisture from my eyes and Briar’s face disappears, replaced with Megan’s. Her dead brown eyes gaze back at me accusingly.