and beady eyes. I stare at him with confusion, and when he sees me, he gives me a smile of pure evilness. His expression has my heart skipping a beat. That's when I remember the car turning on its brights behind me, and the two cars that had been in the middle of the road. Trace would never do anything like that.
Large hands reach in for me. I try to flinch away, but pain radiates through my battered body, and I cry out. His hands are on my seatbelt, and as he slides his broad shoulders in further through the window, I can feel him searching for the release button near my hip. I weakly try to push his hands away, and I realize my hands feel wet and sticky. Probably from my blood. I'm bleeding from various places that I have yet to notice. I can barely see anything of myself, but I can see the man thanks to the light that streaks in from headlights pointed at the twisted remains of the car.
“Just cut the seatbelt. We don't have time—ah, hell. We've got incoming,” a masculine voice mutters from just outside the now non-existent driver’s side door.
“Take care of it, and I'll get her out,” the man says as he pulls out a knife.
“Please don't,” I beg as he grabs the seat belt from my chest and slices it. My body falls forward slightly, but my legs are trapped. I can't help the scream that wrenches from me as pain blazes through my legs. It feels like someone’s cutting off my legs with something sharp as my newly released weight pulls on them painfully.
“Livvy!” I hear Trace shout from somewhere, and I can hear the rage in his voice.
“Trace!” I scream back desperately as I realize he’s out there fighting to get to me. I bat at the man with the grabby hands. He's trying to pull me out, but my legs are caught. “Stop. Please!” I plead as tears slide down my cheeks while I fight him with as much strength as I can manage to dredge up.
His hand lifts and smacks me across the face, stunning me. “Shut up.” He twists further in, his face next to mine as his hands slide down my thighs and further along my knees, searching for where my legs are caught.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask hoarsely as I try to brace myself against the car’s ceiling. My body is in agony, and there’s not enough room for me to rest my weight comfortably. I’m desperate to try to relieve some of the weight that is pulling on my injured legs. I can hear the sounds of fighting outside, and knowing Trace is near makes me braver than what I would be under normal circumstances. I use one free hand to start pulling at him to get him to stop what he’s doing while I try to brace my weight with the other.
The man ignores me and starts pulling on my legs, trying to tug them free. I fight back screams of agony, and I start to hit whatever parts of his body I can reach with both fists. He suddenly twists back, and his fist slams into my head, causing me to spiral downward into blackness.
When I wake up, someone's touching the side of my face tenderly. I gasp, my eyes flying open as I brace myself for a fight. I look up to see Trace leaning over me, his hair hanging in his face slightly. Headlights still light up the darkness and cast eerie shadows across his face. He looks relieved to see that I'm awake. “We need to get out of here. My car's just down the road, but it's a bit of a walk, because I had to take them by surprise. Backups coming, but we can't stick around. I'm going to carry you okay, and it's probably going to hurt like a bitch,” he warns.
I swallow hard. “How bad is it?” I ask, referring to my injuries. There's so much pain...
“I don't know, but you'll be heal,” he promises as he slips his arms carefully beneath my shoulders and knees. “Try not to pass out,” he orders right before he lifts me up into his arms.
A strangled scream escapes me as fire streaks through my abdomen and back. The second my legs begin to swing, agony engulfs me and everything goes hazy.
Trace curses. It cuts into the blackness that wants to engulf me, and