Chapter 342
“Get it,” Dallas wheezed, pointing a shaking finger at the rose bush. “Weston — get the necklace.”
Weston ran to the bush and gently untangled the diamonds from the thorns. He brought it back, holding it like a holy relic.
Dallas took the necklace. He clutched it in his bloodstained hand, pressing the cold stones against his feverish forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, his body racking with pain. “I’m so sorry, Eliza.”
Damon Luna, who had lingered behind in his own car, watched through the rearview mirror. He saw the supposedly invincible Dallas Koch weeping over a necklace.
“Interesting,” Damon muttered.
He put his car in gear and followed Eliza.
The Audi sped down the highway, weaving through late afternoon traffic. Inside, the silence was suffocating.
Eliza sat in the passenger seat, her forehead pressed against the cold glass. The vibration of the engine felt like it was rattling her bones.
“Eliza?” Azalea asked softly from the driver’s seat. “Are you okay? You look gray.”
𝘙𝗲𝘢𝖽 w𝗶𝘵𝘩𝗼𝗎𝗍 i𝗻𝘵𝗲r𝗿𝗎𝘱𝗍𝗂𝗼𝗇s o𝗇 𝘨𝗮lո𝗈v𝖾𝘭𝗌.c𝗈m
“I’m fine,” Eliza whispered.
She wasn’t fine. Her stomach was churning. The image of the necklace hanging on the dead bush, the sound of Dallas’s indifferent voice — it was all swirling in her head, mixing with the lack of food and sleep.
Damon’s black sedan was tailing them. Too close.
“Pull over,” Eliza said suddenly.
“What? We’re on the bridge,” Azalea said, glancing at the GPS.
“I said pull over!” Eliza gagged, her hand flying to her mouth.
Azalea swerved into the emergency lane and slammed on the brakes.
Eliza threw the door open and scrambled out. She barely made it to the concrete barrier before her stomach rebelled. She retched violently, but there was nothing to bring up except bile and acid.
Her body was shutting down. The grief was physical now — a toxin in her blood.
She tried to stand, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The world tilted sideways. The sky and the river merged into a gray blur.
“Eliza!”
She heard Azalea scream. She heard a car door slam.
Then the ground rushed up to meet her.
She didn’t feel the impact. She felt only the darkness — welcoming and soft.
Damon was there before Azalea. He scooped Eliza up from the pavement. She was limp in his arms, terrifyingly light.
“I’ve got her,” Damon shouted at Azalea. “My car is faster. I’m taking her to St. Jude’s.”
“No!” Azalea yelled, trying to push past him, but a mountain of a man in a black suit stepped out of Damon’s car and blocked her path. He didn’t touch her, but his presence was a wall. “Give her to me! I’ll call an ambulance!”
“Don’t be stupid, kid!” Damon snarled, his mask of politeness slipping. “She needs a doctor, not a teenager. Follow me if you can keep up.”
He shoved Eliza into the back of the sedan and peeled out. The hulking bodyguard calmly stepped into a trailing black SUV, which pulled out slowly and deliberately, blocking Azalea’s car from giving immediate chase.
.
.