Leaving Las Vegas (Entangled Ignite) by Aleah Barley Page B

“And this is all just an elaborate setup to get me out in the open. Away from Las Vegas.”
    Was he grumbling, or serious? “I would never— Never.” It didn’t matter if he was only grumbling. Irritated. Her entire life she’d always been the good one. Now, to hear accusations lobbed at her without a thought to her true character set her stomach churning. She’d had it. “Stop the car.” Nothing happened. “Damn it, Luke! Stop the car.”
    He pulled over to the side of the road. “What?”
    “I need to think.” Glory grabbed the door handle and pushed. She needed to get out of the car. Fast. Before they both said something they’d regret later.
    She stumbled out of the car, landing awkwardly. The door was still open behind her. The music from the car radio floating out over the landscape. A classic country crooner—someone whose cracked voice she didn’t recognize—singing about a woman he loved more than his guitar. Up at the Grand Canyon, for one brief shining moment, Luke had seemed like a regular guy, overjoyed at the chance to look over the universe. But she knew better. There was nothing regular about him. While she’d been learning about friendship on the muddy banks of Black Lake, he’d been—what? What kind of man couldn’t understand friendship, community, all the small relationships that made life worth living?
    She looked around. At this altitude, the landscape here was different than at the canyon. Not greener. Not by much. Just different. All sand and rock. Nothing like the crumbling hills of her home, with their crooked trees and lush green meadows.
    Luke had never learned about friendship the hard way, fighting with another kid until you were both laid out on the ground and laughing hard enough to wake the neighbors. He’d never sneaked out with a buddy on Saturday night only to be caught by a grown-up, a bond strengthened by a shared punishment. He’d never shouted fit to burst when someone dumped water on his head, waking him up early for a round of fishing. He’d lived his entire life without people laughing at some fool thing he’d done in kindergarten…over…and over…and over again.
    She shuddered at the thought. She couldn’t imagine being that lonely.
    “I hurt your feelings,” she called out over the sound of the car radio. “I’m sorry.”
    The engine turned off. The music was gone. A door slammed behind her. Luke getting out of the car, following her onto the side of the road. The only thing Glory could hear was the silence of the flat terrain, eerie in comparison with what she was used to—the hum of crickets and the giggles of children out hunting frogs or fireflies.
    “Get back in the car.” An order, not a question.
    “No,” she said.
    “It’s not safe out here—”
    “I’m fine.”
    “You’re not fine.”
    A hand grabbed her arm, strong fingers wrapping around her wrist and gently tugging her backward. She stumbled on unfamiliar terrain and fell awkwardly against his chest. The warmth from his body was almost unbearable after the blistering heat from his tongue. But nice. So nice.
    “It’s dangerous out here,” Luke said. “You don’t just go walking off on the side of the highway.”
    “I can take care of myself.” She wrenched her arm away from him.
    “Even if Tiffanette shows up again?” he asked in a softer tone. “We don’t know if we’re still being followed. They won’t actually shoot me, but you’re another story. They could…”
    Her stomach twisted. He’d left that last little bit unsaid, but she knew what he was saying. And even if she was in danger, he was sticking with her. She licked her dry lips, then made a sharp turn, staring up at Luke. “I said I was sorry.”
    His sharp features were still dark. But after a moment, he nodded. “I accept your apology.” He let out a long breath. “And I apologize for accusing you of having a nefarious scheme.”
    “Damn straight.”
    “You don’t think far enough ahead to be