Scorch Road (Scorch Series Romance Thriller Book 1) by Toby Neal & Emily Kimelman

Author:Toby Neal & Emily Kimelman [Neal, Toby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-31T06:00:00+00:00

Elizabeth

Elizabeth clung to JT’s big, hot hand as he ran ahead of her, the backpack, chock-full of supplies, bouncing on his broad strong back. The thump of the tear gas going off behind her lent speed to Elizabeth’s feet, and she kept up with JT easily. His hand was a lifeline in the storm of calamity around them, the guilty and the innocent alike running before the blunt hammer of the law.

Finally, they reached the mouth of the alley, only to hear Pinocchio’s deep, hostile barking. A couple of men, crowbars in hand, were about to take a swing at the hatch of the Rover.

JT didn’t slow down, just fired the Glock in the air over the mens’ heads, and the looters, faces comically surprised at the sight of the juggernaut headed their way at a full run, fled down the alley.

JT beeped open the vehicle without slowing down, but Elizabeth hated to let go of his hand even for a moment to run to her side, pop the door, and jump in.

They roared down the street.

“Get us the hell out of this city.” JT thrust the atlas at her.

Navigating an unknown city in the middle of societal breakdown at top speed was some unfair pressure, but Elizabeth’s instincts took over as she read the map, following each road out of the city with her finger.

“Left up here. We can take that a while to a more residential area and then hopefully there’s an on-ramp outside the city proper.”

“I don’t think we’re going to have much luck with 1-80 until well outside the city limits. Find us some back roads.” JT turned left, obeying her directions without question.

His trust in her felt good, but scary too. She didn’t want to mess this up, and now that they were safe for the moment, reaction was setting in: Elizabeth’s whole body was shaking, she was dizzy and her tongue was dry—those same old signs of shock. She knew them well.

Her vision was blurry, too.

Her glasses were filthy, coated with a film born of dirt and tear gas. She took them off and rubbed them on her shirt. Placing them back on her nose she peeked at JT’s profile, her eyes starving for something good to look at. Big, strong, and brave—his touch made her melt, and damn he looked good.

Why had he pulled away from her last night—had she done something wrong? Was it because her father was a senator? No, JT wouldn’t be so small-minded that he would judge her based on her parents. She hadn’t told him about how they’d wanted to cover up her killing—or their silence through all the accusations that followed, when she refused to go along with it.

“It’s better not to respond to false accusations,” her father had said.

“We just need to put this incident behind us,” her mother had agreed, the curtains pulled tight against the army of photographers camped outside their townhouse.

Elizabeth pushed those memories back down into the well and returned her attention to JT.

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