Hunted (A Sinners Series Book 2) by Abi Ketner & Missy Kalicicki
The rusted gray car is a luxury we haven’t had in some time. I smooth its faded red upholstery and sink into Cole’s body beside me as the chatter of the 2044 engine lulls me deep into thought.
A breeze blows through the window, whipping my hair around my face. I indulge myself in a smile, enjoying the smell of ocean spray, forgetting where I am momentarily. To imagine sun-kissed beaches, long summer days, and happier times. But something inside won’t quite let me be.
I know this road like I know the curves and edged places of Cole’s body. The dark gravel lines of the road, fading into smooth sand with occasional palm trees dotting the horizon, reminds me of the few photos my mother possessed in her bureau. It’s familiar, comforting, and makes me smile as I close my eyes, trying to shake the uneasy feeling.
I remember how it looked years ago when my parents used to vacation here. Vibrant, full of laughter and life with rows of waterfront houses, people, and clear blue water as far as the eye can see. Now, it’s empty, desolate, a shell of its former self, and half-covered by sand. Neglected and abandoned by people who know better than to return. I sit up and rest my elbow on the window ledge, while inhaling deeply. Despite the wars, there’s an inherent beauty here, one I refuse to let go of.
Cole’s right hand moves to my knee, and I tense under his warm touch. He squeezes, forcing me to jump as a giggle escapes from my lips.
“You okay?” He steals a glance and then returns his eyes to the road.
“Just thinking about how much has happened in the past few months,” I say, feeling my face heat up as I turn toward him.
“Everything that’s happened?” I see the corners of his mouth curving upward. His dimples make me lightheaded. I can’t stop the blush that spreads over my cheeks.
“Not just that. I mean, we’ve been through so much in the past few months. I couldn’t even hold a gun when we first met, let alone shoot one.”
“Or boost a car.”
“And what kind of person can sleep standing up?” I half-expect him to respond, but when he doesn’t, I continue on. “It shouldn’t have to be this way.” My voice trails off, worried I may have ruined the moment. “Cole?”
He doesn’t acknowledge me right away. His eyes are distant, focused on the horizon. Maybe he can feel it too, the dread in the pit of my stomach. That feeling you get when you know the moment won’t last. I stretch out my left arm, wrapping it around his neck while I gently kiss his jawline. “You’re amazing.” Immediately, I feel his body relax. He turns his head, and the same gorgeous smile plays at his lips.
“You’re pretty amazing yourself. A total badass with a gun and a great kisser.” Cole’s intense look is somewhere between satisfied and troubled. Holding his gaze, I smile back, hoping he can’t see how sad and lost I feel.
Compliments are hard to come by nowadays, so when Cole offers one, I savor it. I want him to be proud of how much I’ve changed, how well I can handle myself. I need him to see that I’m not the same girl he rescued from the Hole.
Hair gets caught in my mouth. I push it away from my face and look out the window, watching the sand dunes flip past. Anything’s better than the Hole. I can’t go back to that place. I won’t.
Now we rely on Sutton’s underground resistance members to shelter, feed, and hide us. On occasions like this, we might almost get a break from living like animals, if we can determine whether a possible safe house is actually safe. But even if this safe house turns out to be useful, we can never let our guard down, get too comfortable.
The face of a former revolt member named Molly flashes through my memory as I grip the handle of the car door, turning my knuckles white. At nineteen and only a year older than me, Molly survived being branded orange and living in the Hole for two years on her own, only to be murdered in a safe house that wasn’t secure. When one of her friends found us, he told us she had failed to clear one closet in the house, the only time she’d ever missed one, and was promptly shot by a guard hiding inside. So despite riding in a car with beautiful and soft upholstery, snuggling up to Cole, I cannot become complacent. Complacency can get you killed.
I exhale, letting my thoughts drift away as I examine Cole’s newly buzzed head, glistening from sweat. Just last night, he asked me to chop off his long, dark, greasy hair, grown out of control without the aid of a razor. Now, he looks like the Cole I met on my first day in the Hole—minus the spotless uniform and bossy attitude. But he’s still just as intense.
“I miss Zeus, even though he can be a royal pain in my ass,” he says, raising an eyebrow in my direction before planting a kiss on my cheek.