Chapter 230

Serena's POV

"Let me go!" I screamed at Lucas, my voice echoing through the darkness. We stood on the rain-slicked hillside, the distant lights of downtown Portland twinkling below us like fallen stars.

"Damn it, Serena, you're not thinking straight-" He cut off with a sharp hiss as I sank my teeth into his shoulder. Even through his torn dress shirt, I bit hard enough to make him flinch, but his grip never loosened. I twisted in his arms like a wild thing, desperate to break free.

The steep road was bad enough in good weather. In our struggle, we both went down, and Lucas took the fall, making sure I landed on top of him instead of the rough land. The second his arms loosened, I scrambled up and bolted toward the smoking car, my heels long since abandoned somewhere in the chaos.

Each step sent lightning bolts of pain through my injured leg, but I forced myself forward.

"For God's sake, Serena!"

Lucas caught me, his hands like steel bands around my arms. We were both already a mess of scrapes and blood. I glared into his storm-gray eyes, watching his jaw work as he fought to keep his legendary temper in check. "I will not," I gritted out, "stand here and watch someone die. Not happening."

"Even if it gets you killed?" His voice was rough with fear and fury.

"Even if we both go down. I'll never be able to live with myself if we don't try!"

I yanked free. My mind was made up-to hell with anyone trying to stop me. I took another step toward the wreck, only to feel his grip again.

"Jesus Christ, Lucas, don't make me hate you more than I already do!" I yelled.

"I'll do it," he said abruptly.

My heart stuttered. I didn't expect him to agree so quickly.

"I'll get Atticus out. You stay put," his voice dropped to that quiet tone that made board members tremble. "That's not a request, Serena."

He turned and ran toward the wreck, his tall frame cutting through the darkness and smoke. Watching him walk away, my irritation faded, replaced by waves of worry that hung over my heart like storm clouds. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

I did what I always do when Lucas Harrington tries to give me orders. I ignored him and followed.

I followed Lucas toward a nightmare scene: Atticus and Brooks were trapped in what was left of the black sedan. Blood and car wreckage were everywhere.

Atticus managed to stay composed: "The belt's locked up tight, and this door's got me pinned on my right side. Can't move an inch."

I watched as Lucas and Atticus locked eyes. Lucas dove into the car, and I held my breath as he wrestled with the seatbelt until the buckle finally snapped under his strength.

The door panel was the next challenge. It had Atticus trapped like a vice, the whole frame crushed inward. If it wasn't for those airbags... God, I couldn't even think about it.

"Can you get him out?" I called from outside, my hands shaking.

Lucas's head snapped up. "What the hell are you doing here?!" His face was thunderous, but his hands kept working methodically. I knew he will have this attitude, but I had made up my mind to help together.

"Let me help," I stepped forward.

"Back off, Serena. Now!" The edge in his voice could cut steel.

"Lucas, please-"

"Get out of here, Sinclair." Atticus cut in, his voice strained but still trying for lightness. "Pretty sure my insurance doesn't cover stubborn witnesses."

I backed up two steps, my heart racing. I was intimidated by their sudden intensity. Fearing that approaching them would only escalate the situation, I backed away as they wanted.

Then I saw it - that first flicker under the chassis. My whole body went cold.

The flame was tiny at first, just a flicker beneath the crushed metal. My mind screamed denial even as I kicked off my shoes, ready to do... something, anything.

No. Please, no.

But that tiny flame exploded into an inferno before I could move. The heat hit us in a wave, and I saw the moment all three men felt it too. Flames started licking up the side of the car.

"Serena!"

Lucas was still working, his movements careful and precise as he fought with the crushed door. One wrong move could tear Atticus apart - but now they were running out of time.

"I can find a fire extinguisher!" The words tumbled out of my mouth.

"It's too late! Get back!"

"There has to be something-" My voice cracked. How could I just watch this happen?

"MOVE!" Lucas roared, his eyes meeting mine with steel-cold determination. "I swear to God, Serena, if you don't get clear right now, I'm done trying to save him."

Deep down I knew Lucas was just trying to protect me from danger. But he went to save Atticus because of what I said - if they both died in that fire, I couldn't live with that regret. I desperately wanted to help, but his words left me paralyzed with indecision. I was pacing anxiously, the internal struggle was torture.

"Fine, I'm backing off-just move!" I shot back quickly. I was lying through my teeth. No way was I going to stand by while that car became a death trap. If those flames spread any further, they'd all be dead.

I went around a corner and yanked off my gown without a second thought. But before I could make my move, Lucas emerged from the car. I jumped in surprise and was about to ask him what he was doing here.

He grabbed my arm, his grip leaving no room for discussion. He practically dragged me backward across the rough land.

"Lucas, damn it, let go... we can still help them... there's time!" I fought against him, my voice breaking. I couldn't just watch them burn alive, not when I could do something.

Lucas acted like he couldn't hear a word. He pulled me to what he deemed a safe distance, then gripped my shoulders, his eyes locking onto my tear-stained, bruised face. "I'll get him out. Don't you dare move from this spot!"

He sprinted back toward the blazing vehicle. Watching his silhouette against the flames, I flashed back to that disaster of an engagement party with Ian, when Lucas had charged through the chaos to reach me.

It was Lucas... it had always been Lucas.

Except now he was running away from me, straight into hell.

My hand hung in the air, catching nothing but the ghost of his shirt sleeve. The scream building in my throat-begging him not to go-died before it could escape...