Takeover: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Series Book 1) by Lana Grayson Read Free Book Online Page A

remained dulled with mud and shredded leaves.
    The frayed tires bounced against the mud before imbedding in the irrigation equipment. The car juked, tossing hard to the right. I shielded my face as it flipped, crashing and shattering every window.
    The engine still hummed.
    But the car stopped.
    I fell against broken glass. The airbag hadn’t deployed, my only salvation. The dust would have killed me…unless the men chasing me did it first.
    My vision blurred. The coughing did nothing to clear my lungs. Twice I attempted to turn the car off, missing the ignition and pressing furiously against the radio. Lady Gaga roared against the nightmare. I didn’t have the energy or clarity to shut it off.
    I was close to home.
    I thought.
    Maybe?
    Get out of the car .
    Deep breath. Didn’t help.
    I twisted against the steering wheel. The movement strained an already spasming chest. I had to get out. I had...the door...
    I pulled myself up, measuring each breath with a slight motion. Couldn’t overexert myself. Not with the pollen.
    Dust.
    Debris.
    I crashed Josiah’s car.
    My brother would have made sure I was okay.
    Dad would have been so pissed. At least he was dead. Didn’t have to worry about getting in trouble. I was in enough for a lifetime.
    My shocked laugh pulled me from the stupor. I shivered, but my legs untangled from the seat. I climbed up and forced my weight against the passenger door.
    The bikes rumbled from the road.
    They still chased?
    What did they expect to find? A wreck like that should have turned me to corn-meal mush. I grunted and shoved the door open, heaving myself up and using my ribs to prevent the door from closing. My lungs hardly worked anyway. Why should they get protected?
    I clattered to the ground and sputtered in the dirt. My fingers grasped the soil of my family’s land. It gave me strength. Something my brothers never understood and Darius Bennett would sooner salt than experience.
    I took a step.
    One step.
    Then another.
    And a third.
    I stumbled into the corn, away from the car blaring techno pop in the shadows of the field.
    Another step.
    Where was I?
    West field. No. North field? I left town traveling south.
    Something cold slithered against my ankle. My cry didn’t squeak out. Not when a web crossed over my lips.
    Corn silk.
    Pretend its corn silk.
    Breathe.
    Run.
    Too much to do.
    Someone called my name. Maybe Mom saw the crash? She’d come running if she had managed to pull herself out of bed.
    But the voice was deep—a melting wax of shadow and heat.
    Not her.
    I dodged the thrashing slap of corn as I ran. Destructive footsteps slammed behind me.
    Did I cry? I hoped the wetness on my cheeks wasn’t blood. I didn’t stop sprinting through the endless, darkened fields of cold, dew-kissed corn.
    My name again. Closer. I tripped over the stalks and crashed to the ground.
    Get up .
    My fists dug into the dirt again as the shadow burst after me. I tossed the handful, but the man in the helmet sidestepped the throw. I kicked. He grabbed my leg.
    The panic attack won out. My puffing chest hyperventilated me before the asthma stole my vision. The biker dove to my side, picking me up. I swung another fist, but I struck only black riding leathers, protecting him from the road and my weak hits. He held me close. The dark helmet muffled his call.
    “She’s over here!”
    That delicious voice again. Familiar. I struggled to turn over, to crawl away. He called my name and shook me once as my head lolled in his arms. He ripped the helmet off.
    Golden eyes swirled in my mind.
    I swore my kidnapper looked like Nicholas Bennett.
     

 

     
     
     
     
    A needle pinched my skin. I jerked awake.
    Where was I?
    The blood drew too slowly, delicately stolen from my vein. They tried to be gentle and failed.
    Hands poked at me. I shifted, but I couldn’t move. Thick bindings strapped me down, the material stretched taut over my chest and wrists.
    A hospital?
    No. The shattering fear shredded me