Through the Static by Jeanette Grey

what little of Aurelia she chose to let him see and hear and feel. He didn’t understand the silence or the shakiness or the places where his mind just stopped. He didn’t know the edges of his own thoughts or the subtle flavor of hers.
    All he knew was that she was screaming.
    â€œStop the car!”
    She’d asked him quietly once already, several terrifying seconds after he’d confessed to what his Three had done the night before.
    Fuck. What they’d done the night before.
    The familiar haze of guilt rose over him, and at the borders of his vision, he saw that same wavering face amidst the static. Those same doleful eyes.
    A rough shove against his shoulder pushed the electrical hum aside, pushed his arm back into his space and away from the sanctum of her skin. She’d already pulled away from him the instant he’d hinted at what they’d done to her files, but this was even worse. The steering wheel jerked beneath his hand as he whipped his head around, hurt and ungrounded all at the same time. He glared at Aurelia as he forced the car back into the right lane. “What do you think you’re—”
    She sat there, spine wedged against the door, safety belt unfastened. Her arms were braced in front of her. And there was a weapon in her hands.
    â€œI told you to stop the car.”
    At that, his instincts finally kicked in. “Absolutely not.”
    She had no intention of using the gun. He knew that, could feel it through their link and in the tenor of the fear and anger she was pushing into the air. She just needed control over this situation. Control over herself and over him and what was happening between them.
    But he couldn’t give it to her. The protective instincts driving him told him to keep the car moving, to get them closer to safety and as far from his Three as possible. He had to keep her safe.
    And he had to know what she was thinking.
    He pointed his gaze straight ahead as he floored the accelerator, pretending to pay her no attention even though every fiber of his being was bent toward her. With his mind, he probed the exposed edges of hers, and in his peripheral vision, he studied her stance.
    Everything in the space between them was colored by a rage so hot, a betrayal too fresh to be tamed, and he cursed himself. He’d sworn he’d never let anyone hurt her, and here he’d gone and done it himself.
    The instant Curse and Charm had ID’ed the blood on the gloves he’d disposed of—the instant they’d spoken her name into his mind—he’d known he was fucked, but things had been moving too fast then, too. He’d gone straight into crisis mode, all his energy focused on keeping his Three from doing the terrible things they planned to. The terrible things they planned to make him do.
    But he’d known. Right then, he’d known she wouldn’t be able to forgive him for who he’d been before she met him. Before she’d given him his first breath of air that was his own.
    Still, he tried to explain. Tried to make himself redeemable in her eyes. Pushing images into her mind, he swore, “I didn’t know. All we had was an address, and it wasn’t until this morning, when Curse and Charm figured out who you were—”
    Cold metal pressed against his temple. She didn’t want explanations. Not right now.
    â€œStop. This. Car.”
    Her need warred with his own. This time, hers won. She needed stillness. Space. He pressed his foot to the brake.
    The car had barely come to a stop at the side of the road before she was flinging the door open and hurling herself out of it. He followed her in her mind, watching the unguarded images of trees and brush giving way beneath her. God, she was hurting so badly and in so many ways.
    He couldn’t let her get far, but he had the presence of mind and the advantage of speed. He’d be able to catch up to her. He took the extra few seconds to drive the