This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,113

Wyatt grunts, sharing a glare with me. Louder, he says, “We need to keep going. We’ve gotta get you to a doctor, man.”

Lucas hands Wyatt back the small, sharp tool, and Wyatt puts it back in the bag for him. We start back out, this time all of us ducking as we descend the small drop.

It was the perfect trap. The wire could’ve decapitated him. He didn’t have footing, and he couldn’t use his hands to pull himself up. If he were alone, how long would he have struggled there for? The fucking wire was as sharp as a knife blade.

I hold Lucas’ hand the rest of the way, squeezing him every so often. Every time he squeezes back, my heart lifts a little, giving me a sense of relief.

Whoever these people are, hurting us isn’t their aim. They want to take us out.

38

Wyatt comes to a skidding halt at the trailhead. “Fucking Christ!”

It only takes a moment to see what ignited his outburst. His truck tires are flat. All of them.

He moves closer, hands running over the tread until he can part the rubber and stick a couple fingers inside. “Slashed.”

Of course they are. Someone did all they could so we would be staying up in the mountains today.

“Call—” Lucas whispers, breaking off and grimacing. There’s a red tinge to the bandages that twists my insides.

“On it,” Wyatt tells him, bringing out his phone and pressing the screen before holding it to his ear. His face gets tenser the longer we wait, and eventually he curses and hangs up, only to hit the screen again to redial. He calls Stone three times before relenting. “He’s not picking up.”

“It’s his wedding day,” I mock, trying to keep the bitchy tone out of my voice but completely failing. “Of course, he’s not answering.”

“I can call the main house,” Wyatt offers.

Lucas shakes his head.

“Fuck it, I’m calling Cole.” It dawns on me then that my cell is completely fucked. I haven’t memorized the gangster’s number, either, and Wyatt and Lucas don’t have it because he only gave it to me. “Shit. My phone.”

Lucas brings his out, scrolls to someone called Jackass, and pushes the screen before handing it to me. His eyes apologize as I take the device and hold it to my ear, but I have no idea who it’s calling until I hear the voicemail. It’s fucking Cole. I turn toward Lucas, and he shrugs. He must’ve stolen his number off my phone and put it in his, calling him Jackass. I mean, it would be kind of funny if I weren’t staring Lucas down with bandages all over his neck. I wait for the beep before saying, “Cole, it’s Dakota. We’re in trouble. Call me back on this number please.”

I hang up, keeping it in my hand in case Cole calls back. What are the chances that the leader of the Dragons checks his voicemail right away? Slim to—

The phone rings in my hand, Jackass scrolling over the screen, and I immediately answer it. “Cole!”

“Dakota, are you okay? What’s going on?”

“How close are your guys to the trailhead? We need to get Lucas to the hospital.” I peek at Lucas who’s turning more and more ashen.

“Give me two seconds.” Our connection sounds funny for a moment, like he took it away from his ear. When he comes back on, I can tell I’m on speaker. “Tell me what happened. I’m texting them right now.”

I explain the two booby traps we ran into and how the truck tires are fucking slashed.

“Get away from the truck,” Cole instructs.

“Huh?”

“Get away from it,” he barks.

He’s so loud Wyatt and Lucas could hear him. We start walking up the road, dragging our packs along behind us, until we’re a hundred feet away from it.

“I’m going to kill Jacobs,” Cole says, voice eerily calm and controlled now that I’ve told him we’re away from the truck.

“Fuck that. I’m killing him,” I seethe.

“I gave you your chance.”

“Yeah, well....” I clear my throat. “If this is him, I’m doing it.” I sneak another glance at Lucas. He’s leaning against Wyatt now. I lower my voice. “How close are they?”

“One minute out, baby girl. Is it just Lucas? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “It sucks when someone you care for is hurt and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Yeah,” I croak out.

We’re silent for a moment before he says, “Listen, they’re going to pull up any second. Get Lucas settled in the hospital, but