Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance - Page 80

Reckless should have been my middle fucking name.

My breath was ragged, and my shoes were hardly keeping traction as I skidded to a stop right beside the car. I flung the passenger door open and flew inside.

Gemma was sitting in the driver's seat, and as soon as she saw me, I shouted, “DRIVE!”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Gemma

I froze. My lungs had stolen my ability to breathe.

“Gemma!” Isaiah was completely wet from head to toe. His black hair was even darker than usual as it stuck to his forehead. Tiny raindrops clung to his lashes, and they stayed even as he opened his mouth and yelled, “Gemma, drive!”

A loud noise rang out through the air. What the heck was that?

“I can’t drive!” I panicked, looking down at the wheel as if the leather would burn my hands. There was panic in his voice, and it only took one look from him to know we were in trouble.

“What the hell do you mean you can’t drive?” Then, his hand gripped the shifter in between us. “Gas is on the right, brake is on the left!”

Blood rushed through my body so viciously I itched.

“It’s life or death, Gemma! Go! Now!” Then, he popped the car into drive, and my foot moved off the brake, and I slammed onto the gas. The tires spun under wet asphalt, and then we whooshed forward, rushing down the street.

Something from behind sounded again, and Isaiah cursed. “Let off the gas for a second.”

I did as he said, my foot completely coming off the pedal, and then he reached over and jerked the wheel to the left, and we went flying onto another street.

He wasn’t paying much attention to the front of us but more so behind us. He kept his tight grip on the wheel from the passenger seat, but I was able to straighten it for us before pressing back down on the pedal.

“That’s it, Gem. You’re doing great. Keep your foot on the gas.”

Isaiah was looking out of the side mirror, his jaw set into a tight, firm line. I didn’t look for long, though, because the reality of the situation was weighing down on my shoulders, and I needed to keep us on the road.

I’d run before, on foot, but I knew what it felt like to be in a life-or-death situation, and there was no time for worry or second-guessing. What I was feeling was parallel to what I’d felt before, and I knew I’d do what was needed to get us far away from whatever it was he was running from. Bain?

“More gas,” he urged, his large hand still on the wheel. He glanced out the front for a second before he went back to the mirror. Both of our bodies flew back onto the leather seats as I pushed us forward, trying my hardest to keep us straight on the road. The rearview mirror was too far up for me to see, and I was lucky I’d messed around with the seat while Isaiah was looking for Bain, otherwise my feet wouldn’t have hit the pedals.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. It was so angry sounding that it sent a wave of caution to my ears. “I need to get you out of here.”

“Us,” I corrected, pushing even harder on the gas as my gaze stayed steady on the road. There weren’t any other cars in front of us, but up ahead, I saw the white lines curving, and my stomach revolted. Gas? Or brake?

“Isaiah, what do I do?”

He snagged a quick look to the road before he answered, “Let up on the gas. I’ll turn for you.”

My breaths were coming in hot, but I tried my hardest to focus on the task at hand, even with the nagging feeling of being chased scratching at my back. Although I’d been in a similar situation, where I’d been chased before, it didn’t make matters better even in the slightest. My body was still just as panicky as it was then, and for a moment, I swore I could still feel the twigs slashing across my arms and legs, my skin burning with the cuts.

“Gemma,” Isaiah’s voice cut through my foggy brain, and I shook my head. “Breathe. I can feel your slip on the wheel.”

I stuttered, shaking my head. “I’m—I’m sorry,” I urged through clanking teeth. Shit, I’m doing it again! “I do this sometimes.”

My fight-or-flight instincts were coming in like stinging slaps against my skin as I decided to fight. I’d fight against the panic. The fear was an exact mold of what I’d felt before. The dread of being caught and the pain that would come with it. It was maddening.

Isaiah turned the wheel for me as I focused on even breaths and letting up on the gas. My foot hovered over the brake and accelerator before he straightened the wheel. “Gas!”

My foot slammed down as my hands gripped the leather.

“You do what sometimes?” He turned the car for me again, although I was pretty sure I was getting the hang of it. Though, I had yet to come to a complete stop, so I knew I probably still needed his guidance.

Tags: S.J. Sylvis Romance
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