CHAPTER THIRTY

Darkness swirled around Sabrina.

The first thing she was aware of was the smell. Smoky and acrid, like an extinguished campfire.

She opened her eyes slowly.

She was in her car, lodged between the seat and her airbag, the front of her car burst open, cold air attacking her.

She blinked a few times.

“Sabrina!”

Nash. Could it really be him? Memory fragments fought their way into her brain. The white van. She’d called Nash. He had planned to catch up with her.

“Sabrina!” There was no mistaking it now. It was Nash’s voice. She tilted her head to the side and saw his face through the broken passenger window, though his expression was less assured than she’d ever seen it. She tried to respond but was finding it hard to catch her breath.

Nash swung the door open, glass particles crackling onto the pavement. “I’ve got you.” He moved his hands around her, unbuckled the seat belt and scooped her out of the car.

As he carried her across the street, Sabrina looked around, growing more aware of her surroundings. Of what had happened.

Her car had spun out and was facing the wrong direction, the entire front hood bashed in, the windshield shattered. A small green SUV was also stalled in the center of the intersection, its front smashed up like a pancake.

A man ran up to them. He looked like a young dad. “Is she going to be all right? I didn’t even see her!”

The driver of the other car.

Nash gave him a steely look. “You’re lucky you didn’t kill her.”

Sabrina wanted to protest — it hadn’t been all this guy’s fault. But her head was hurting and it was too difficult to get the words out.

Nash placed her down on the strip of grass alongside the road, his arms still propping her up.

Her breathing had regulated slightly. She looked back up at Nash, expecting to find anger in his eyes. She’d done the direct opposite of what he’d told her to do. Again.

But as he hovered over her, she could see only fear in his face. “Are you okay?” he asked. She nodded, and that seemed to reassure him.

“Say something,” he urged. His fist was covered in fresh, bloody cuts.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Nash followed her gaze to his hands, then made a noise, his body shaking slightly. For a second, Sabrina was worried and then she realized … he was laughing. She’d never heard him do that before.

“What?” she asked weakly.

“Seriously? You’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“You’re bleeding,” Sabrina said sheepishly.

“This is nothing. I punched the side window out to unlock the car.”

She raised a hand to her forehead and grimaced.

“That’s where the airbag hit you.”

He looked back to the cars. “It looks like he was making a left and bashed the front of your car. You were lucky, Sabrina. Another few inches and …”

He looked away, letting the sentence hang.

“It was a yellow light,” Sabrina remembered. “I was right behind him …”

“Behind that guy? How?”

“No. Behind the white van. And then it got away.” She had a brief flashback to the last thing she had seen … some kind of flame erupting in the van. Could she have really seen that? It seemed unlikely now.

“You were chasing the white van?” Nash spoke slowly, as if he didn’t know whether to believe her or examine her for brain damage. “I thought he was following you.”

Oh, of course. Nash wasn’t upset with her because he didn’t know what really happened.

Sabrina took a breath. “I was scared I was going to lose him. I think he knew that I’d noticed him. I figured if I could just keep him in sight until you got here — or get a license plate number — it would be worth it. But then he turned so quickly and I lost him.”

“Dammit, Sabrina,” Nash snapped.

“I know. I’m sorry. I was trying to stay on him as best I could, but he was going so fast —”

“You think I’m upset because the guy got away?”

Just then, a traffic cop arrived on his motorcycle.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Nash said quietly.

“What should I tell the officer?” Sabrina asked, suddenly nervous.

“The truth. Minus the white van.”

A half hour passed as the police officer spoke to both her and the man who hit her, and tow trucks came to haul the vehicles away.

“Do you want to go to the hospital, miss?” the officer asked her. “I can have an ambulance pick you up if your friend can’t take you.” He looked at Nash.

Sabrina shook her head. “I think I’m okay.” Her face was sore and bruised from the airbag and she had a nasty case of whiplash already setting in. But she didn’t need the ER.

“Let’s just double-check for a concussion, then.” The officer grabbed a small flashlight from his belt. “Follow the light.”

Sabrina obeyed, flicking her eyes back and forth as he moved the flashlight. Satisfied, he shut it off.

“No concussion.”

Nash raised a skeptical eyebrow. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m fine,” Sabrina insisted. “Just shaken up.”

“Let’s get you home,” Nash said, steering Sabrina away from the officer. When they were out of earshot, he added, “I don’t trust that meter maid. I want to check you out myself.”

Sabrina frowned. “I don’t want to go home.” The thought of going back to the small, stale house with her parents right now felt unbearably depressing.

“Then let’s go to my place. If you have a concussion, you need to be watched. I’ll feel safer with you there anyway.”

The one upside to having parents who could not care less about where she was? She didn’t need to check in with anyone after a car accident or even bother going home.

Nash was suddenly watching her carefully. “Is it okay with you if we go to my place?”

They both knew they were crossing a line. And they were both pretending it wasn’t a big deal. That it was only about staying safe. Sabrina nodded, maybe a bit too enthusiastically.

Nash gave her a small smile. “Okay, then.”

*    *    *

Sabrina wasn’t surprised to find Nash’s short-term rental was neat and sparse. A black couch took up most of the living room, a few books stacked neatly on an end table. It reminded her of a college dorm room, which wasn’t that strange considering how young he was.

“Come,” he said, leading her onto the couch. His fingers gently probed her head. “Does that hurt?” he asked.

“Not really,” Sabrina said. “I have a little headache, though. And my neck is hurting.”

He got up and rummaged in the small kitchen.

“Have you checked if everyone else is okay?” Sabrina asked. “What if he left me just to go to one of the others?” She cursed herself for not thinking of it earlier.

“They’re fine. I talked to Patricia while you were with the officer. We’ve checked in with everyone. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What if he decides to get more aggressive? Or goes to one of their houses tonight? I’m pretty sure he was waiting for me to get off my shift at Sonic. Should we call the police? I know they can’t know about all this, but maybe there’s a way …”

“Sabrina, we have infinitely more resources than the police. Believe me. If I thought they could help, I’d call them, but we don’t need to. Patricia is handling it. We’re going to start monitoring your houses.”

“But what if everyone’s not at home? I think Andrew has a Mathlete thing tomorrow —”

“We know,” Nash answered, softening without sounding condescending as he walked back to her with a bottle of ibuprofen, a glass of water and a heating pad. “Put this on your shoulders.”

Sabrina slipped the pad onto her neck and shoulders, the warmth relieving the stiffness that was setting in. He sat down next to her. “Don’t worry. The FBI is on it. It’s my job to make sure this guy, whoever he is, doesn’t get near you or any of the others again.”

“Who do you think it was?”

Nash sighed. “I’m not sure. It might not even be related to our case.”

“The van was definitely trying to get away from me. The driver didn’t want me to see him. Or her, I guess.”

Nash paused, as if he didn’t like what he was about to say. “We know the white van Devon Warner rented was never returned.”

“What does that mean?” She met his eyes and instantly understood. “You think whoever killed Devon took his van. And that person was the one following me tonight.”

“I hope not. But yes, that’s a … strong possibility.”

Sabrina tried to connect the dots in her aching head. Devon had conspired with someone — a friend? — to kill Lily. That person double-crossed Devon and killed him to keep the serum for himself and do God-knows-what with it. And now, if he was driving Devon’s van, he was the one who followed her. The one who had been driving by Z’s house. But why? How had he found them? And what did he want from them? Did he know they were looking for the serum?

Her heating pad slipped off, and Nash picked it up. “Turn around.” She assumed he was going to return the pad to her, but then she felt his hands start to knead her shoulders.

“Is that okay?” he asked. “You’ll feel better tomorrow if we get some of the knots out now.” It was another line they were crossing. And another attempt to pretend they weren’t.

“It’s good.” The tension she’d been holding in her body for the last few hours melted away.

“Tell me if it’s too much pressure.” His fingers nimbly pressed into the flesh of her neck, and her body temperature shot up as though she’d just stepped into a sauna.

“Sabrina, you need to be careful,” he said in a low voice. “Promise me. I don’t want you chasing after this guy. Whatever possessed you to do that —”

“What would you have done if you were me?” Sabrina interjected. “Just let the guy go? I couldn’t. I was so close to seeing his face.”

Nash didn’t reply right away. When he spoke, his voice was serious. “And you could have gotten yourself killed doing it. Whoever he is, he’s extremely dangerous. Promise me this won’t happen again.”

“I can’t,” Sabrina said. “Not if I’m being honest. I keep thinking about all the sick and twisted things he could do with the serum. If I got that close to him again, I’d do the same thing.”

Nash was silent, though his hands continued working into her shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m making your job harder again,” she added.

He turned her to face him, planting his gaze on Sabrina so fiercely that her whole body shivered. “You think that’s really what I’m worried about.”

“You’re … not the easiest guy to understand,” she answered honestly.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want anything to happen to you?” Their faces were just inches apart. Sabrina’s pulse raced.

“I don’t know,” she breathed.

“Let me lay it out for you. If something happened to you, I would be destroyed.”

He suddenly brought his hand up to her cheek, and before she had time to analyze what was happening, he was kissing her. Softly at first, then with more urgency. She’d never kissed anyone like this before. His fingers were in her hair, on her face, grasping her hips. She brought her hands under his shirt, bringing him closer, pressing her body against his, the intensity almost too much to handle.

“Sabrina …” Nash murmured into her neck, igniting a chill down her body.

“Don’t stop,” Sabrina urged, breathless.

“We can’t,” he said, but his lips found hers again, his arms wrapped around her shoulders until he pulled away. She brought her lips back toward his, but after a beat he pulled away again.

“We can’t,” he repeated more firmly, his breath still coming fast.

“Why not?”

Nash looked at her, their bodies still enmeshed. “It’s wrong on so many levels. If anyone ever found out —”

“I wouldn’t say anything.”

He shook his head with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry. Believe me. I really am.” Suddenly, he stood up. “You should get to sleep. Let me show you where the bed is. I’ll stay on the couch.”

He led her back to the bedroom, equally as sparse as the front room. “You can stay in here,” Sabrina said, feeling guilty for usurping his bed and secretly hoping he’d change his mind. “Nothing has to happen.”

Nash’s eyes raked over her again. “Let’s not test that, shall we?”

He propped up the pillows and handed her a shirt from his drawer. “Is this okay to sleep in?”

Sabrina nodded wordlessly.

He stopped at the door. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? Don’t worry about waking me.”

Sabrina nodded again and nestled into the soft sheets, tinged faintly with the scent of Nash’s shampoo. It was only once she closed her eyes and began to dream that the girl from the woods, her almond eyes urgent, began swirling around in her unconscious, her words echoing.

You can’t trust them.