Page 322
His mother’s voice filled his mind.
You’re pathetic. Worthless. I should have done the world a favor and got rid of you.
Maybe Felicity was right. Because the only thing he could do was fly out the door.
His motorcycle roared through the night, his body vibrating as he had the throttle pegged. Hot gusts of air whipped at his face, and his skin was drenched in sweat.
It took him forty minutes to get to the dirt parking lot. His stomach turned over when he saw that prick Patrick’s car sitting there. He kicked the stand and hauled off, the soles of his boots scattering dust as he ran up the closest trail.
Except it splintered out in twenty different directions, and he stalled. Not sure which he should take.
But he could feel it. Elena’s turmoil, and he raced up an incline to the right. Wound through the trees and shrubs.
His breaths hard pants as he searched through the brush.
He finally broke through a clearing at the top.
Elena was there, shaking and hunched over.
Trevan’s gaze took stock. Hair littered with leaves and blood on her knees. Shock and pain carved in the shadows on her face.
Her body trembling.
But what nearly destroyed him was the fact her dress was ripped down the middle, her white-knuckled fingers holding it together.
“Fuck, Elena.” He rushed for her, and she yelped when he curled her in his arms.
“What happened?” He couldn’t stop it from coming out a growl.
“Patrick,” she hiccupped.
Rage stormed him.
A full-body assault.
That prick was dead.
“He hurt you?”
She choked and fisted his shirt. “He…” Her teeth chattered as she tried to force it out.
“Where is he?”
“I killed him.” A tremor rocked her. “Oh God, I killed him.”
He jerked back, stared down at her through the foggy drift of the moonlight.
Dirt-stained tears tracked down her cheeks.
“What?”
“I killed him.”
“Where is he?” he demanded.
Her jaw trembled. “There.”
She turned her horrified gaze to the steep slope that overlooked the city.
