Rain's POV
Don't die, you idiot. Don't you dare die on me.
I need you.
You can't go yet.
Not until you tell me everything. Not until you tell me who the hell I'm supposed to meet.
My hands gripped the reins tighter, my heart pounding like a drum inside my chest. I'd never ridden a horse in my life — hell, I didn't even know how to sit on one properly before tonight — but if anyone had seen me then, they'd have sworn I was born in a bloody saddle. I didn't care how reckless it was, or that the damn beast was barely under my control.
I was desperate.
Really desperate.
Batista lay slumped in front of me, his head lolling with every jolt of the ride. He wasn't moving. His skin felt cold. His breathing was shallow, almost too faint to feel.
But I knew he wasn't dead.
Couldn't be.
I hadn't given him permission to die yet.
"Hold on," I muttered through clenched teeth. "You stubborn bastard, you're not leaving me now."
