Page 116 of Royal Mistake

Her life in my hands.

Nothing would stop me.

Nothing.

Using every ounce of strength I had, I kicked the window three more times. When it finally shattered, I uttered a sharp roar and scrambled forward.

“I’m getting you out, baby. Hold on. Just hold on.”

“Va-leer-io,” she moaned, fighting to get to me.

“Just relax.” I reached across her, trying to unfasten the seatbelt. It was stuck. Jesus Christ. The heat was oppressive, the crowd forming suffocating.

I pulled and tugged, becoming frantic and furious.

“Use this, bro,” Gage said, the very Swiss Army knife I’d given him as a Christmas gift when he was a rough and tumble kid appearing in my line of sight.

There were no words.

There was no time.

“Get back. Get back!” someone was screaming.

“Sir. We got this,” a deep voice said.

“Like hell you do.” I sliced through the belt, gently tugging her closer.

The flames were getting close.

The smoke made it tough to breathe.

The sirens continued blaring, horns honking in every direction.

But I was focused.

Completely focused.

Echoes everywhere.

People yelling.

Smoke rising.

I managed to wrap one arm around her, carefully easing her from the seat. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

“Get back! It’s going to blow.”

While I didn’t recognize the voice, it didn’t matter. I was scrambling, fighting to protect her while crawling away.

Flames had reached the back, near the gas tank.

Hands grabbed my arms, muffled voices screaming my name. As soon as I was pulled upward, I picked her up, cradling her against my chest. I turned, yelling into the sky as I willed my aching legs to move.

Move.

Move.

The explosion was horrific, the force driving me off my feet and while airborne, I managed to look down at her beautiful face.