My Next Play by Carrie Ann Ryan

Chapter 19

Nessa

I groanedas I fluttered my eyes open, trying to figure out what’d just happened. Everything ached, and the coppery taste of blood in my mouth told me something was wrong. Light shone in my eyes, and I closed them again, trying to catch up. Something was wrong.

A groan escaped as I lifted my lids again, trying to take in my surroundings. We were in the car. Miles and I had been talking about something I didn’t remember. Miles. He had to be okay. Had we gone off the road? No, something had hit us. Right?

I turned my head, moaned, and then looked at him, my whole body shaking. Miles lay with his head against the side window, cracks in the glass, more shattered around both of us. Blood ran from a wound on his head. His eyes were closed, his body still as death at first, but then I saw his chest move. He was breathing.

“Miles,” I gasped and swallowed hard.

I reached out, but I couldn’t move. My seatbelt was jammed, digging into my hip. My fingers fumbled as they went to the clasp, trying to press the button. It wouldn’t work. I pulled and tugged. Finally, the mechanism released, and I nearly fell forward.

I reached for Miles, afraid to move him in case he had a spinal injury, but I still had to touch his hand. To feel his warmth, his pulse.

“Miles. Wake up.” Tears fell down my cheeks, and my voice was a rasp, but I needed Miles to wake up. He needed to be okay.

I looked for my phone but couldn’t find it. It had been on my lap before the accident. Now, it was somewhere in the car. What the hell had happened?

Someone should have seen. Should have witnessed the accident and called 911 for us. Maybe the other driver? I looked around, and a scream wrenched from my throat.

Xander stood on the other side of the door, his face pressed against the window. He smiled.

Oh, dear God.

This was all Xander. He had run us off the road. All of this was him. Somehow, Xander had used the situation and followed us, and now we were hurt. Miles was unconscious, and Xander was here.

And I was alone.

“Call 911,” I yelled, trying to plead for mercy, but I didn’t think that would happen. Not with Xander. And not now.

He smiled again and opened the door. It creaked and strained against the angle the accident had bent it into.

Only the car had hit Miles’ side.

Not mine.

Xander had hurt Miles. All to get to me?

What the hell was he going to do now?

“Come with me quietly, and nobody has to get hurt.” He winked. “No one else, anyway. Sorry about Miles. He should’ve listened. I told you that you were mine. We had a great time together, Nessa love. We enjoyed one another. And then you had to go for him. It’s all his fault.”

“Xander,” I rasped as I kicked out. “You can’t do this.”

He shook his head and slowly pulled something metal out of his pocket. I froze, my whole body shaking. “I don’t want to have to use this,” he said as he waved the gun. “We’re at this corner here. Nobody’s driven by in over ten minutes. They’re all stuck on the highway or taking other back roads. Lucky for me that I have this moment with you. I was planning to take you out at home, but you were never alone. Then I got pinched, and well, here we are. The accident was fortuitous. Come with me. I promise, I won’t shoot him. He already looks to be hurt enough, don’t you think?” he asked and winked again.

I had to talk him down. There was no way I could fight back, not with the gun in his hand and the look on his face. I didn’t want to die, and I sure as hell didn’t want whatever Xander had planned for me. Yet, the only thing that truly mattered at the moment was Miles. I needed to lead Xander away from Miles before he changed his mind and hurt Miles even more. “Xander, you don’t have to do this.”

“I do. Don’t you see? You didn’t listen to me at the party. You didn’t pay attention the way you should have. In reality, this is your fault, Nessa darling.”

I didn’t scream. I didn’t do anything but try to catch my breath. I wasn’t having an asthma attack, but it felt like one could come on at any moment. When Xander tugged at my wrist, I nearly fell out of the car, tripping over my feet. “Stop being so clumsy. You aren’t going to get out of this. You were supposed to be mine. Don’t you see? I am a nice guy. I took care of you. I was kind to you. I noticed you when no one else did. That little British friend of yours? He left you for that bitch. I was there to protect you. What did you do? You fell for the guy in glasses. I’m the one who will always be your friend and take care of you. Not this loser.”

He waved the gun again before putting it in its holster at his hip. I hadn’t even realized he wore one. This had to be a nightmare, but I wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon.

“Now, I don’t want this gun to get in the way of what I’m going to do to you,” he said as he leered and tugged me towards his truck. It was a big one with a lift kit. He’d smashed it into our car and it barely looked damaged from the assault. “Get in the fucking truck, Nessa. Please don’t fight or you’ll regret it.”

He didn’t have his hand on the gun. I had time to flee if I was quick. I pulled at him, and he struck out, the back of his hand meeting my face in a blur of heat and pain.

I tripped back and fell to the ground. We were behind a pillar, bushes and trees all around. Nobody could see us from the road. Even if I screamed, I didn’t think they would hear it over the sounds of the highway in the distance and the waterway behind us.

No one could hear. I needed to save myself. And Miles.

I had to get to Miles.

“I’ll just get a taste here while we wait.” He kicked me, and I groaned, rolling into a ball to protect my stomach. Then he looked at me and licked his lips. I screamed again and kicked at his knee. He went down. I punched his face, trying to claw at him, but I knew the best thing I could do was run.

Run and get Miles. Find my phone and call for help. There had to be something I could do. I scrambled to my feet and began running, but he pulled at my hair. I fell backward and hit the ground, my body bruising, but I didn’t care. I needed to get out of there.

Again, he didn’t reach for his gun. He didn’t go for anything but me.

Did he forget that he had it there? I hoped he had. For all of our sakes, I hoped he forgot.

“You’re going to regret you did that,” he growled, and then he was on top of me, pressing his mouth to mine. I kneed him in the balls, and he shouted, falling off me. I kicked him again and again before scrambling away.

“You bitch.”

“No, you’re the bitch,” Miles snarled from behind me. I looked up then, blood on my palms and my knees, my heart racing.

“He has a gun!”

“I don’t fucking care.” Miles hit Xander once. Twice. Xander just grinned as he stumbled back, but he didn’t reach for that gun.

He lashed out at Miles, but Miles was quicker. They were both standing now, and Miles hit him again, and again, and again. I looked at them and then at the car. I knew my phone was in there somewhere. I needed to call for help.

“Miles, stop. Don’t kill him.”

“He deserves it,” he growled, and I ran towards the car. My phone lay on the floorboard, and I grabbed it and called 911. Miles stood over Xander, and my stomach roiled.

“I need help. We need help,” I whispered into the phone. Miles looked at me then, blinked, and then fell, his whole body sagging as whatever adrenaline he had left, disappeared in a rush. I ran towards him, towards the man who had saved me even as I tried to save him, and pushed at Xander to make sure he was out of it.

As I looked at the gun that had fallen at his side, I realized there were no bullets in it. He had threatened me with no ammunition. He didn’t matter now, though. Only Miles did. I gently put Miles’ head in my lap as tears streamed, and I tried to explain to the authorities where we were. I heard footsteps, other cars finally seeing us on the side of the road, the drivers coming to help. I cried and held onto Miles, hoping we could fix this.

Hoping to hell this wasn’t the end.