Someone was shaking him. Since no one ever touched him, Timothy was convinced it was a dream. The pain pounding in his head prevented him from slipping back into deep sleep though.

“Timmy. Oh, fuck. Timmy, come on man. Please. Fucking shit.”

Timothy cracked an eye open but most of what he saw was dark, then he realized the dark was sticky. He raised an arm and hissed as pain swamped him.

“Timmy? I’m so sorry, but we need to get out. Fast.”

Timothy squinted at Rush. There was some white fabric or something in front of him. Airbag. Slowly, he turned his head to take in his surroundings.

“Can you move?” Rush was way too close. His breath caressed Timothy’s cheek.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Rush had gotten his car crashed.

“And I’ll let you, but not right now. We need to run. Can you run?”

“Snack.”

“What?” Rush fiddled with Timothy’s seat belt.

“I need a snack.”

Shaking his head, Rush pulled Timothy toward him.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Crawl this way then. We’re stuck on the side. The underside of the car is facing the slope, and there’s a tree in your backseat.”

Timothy looked around, not realizing the car wasn’t standing on the ground until now. “Oh.”

“As fast as you can. You’re not stuck, right?” The worried tone wasn’t anything he’d ever heard from Rush before. Timothy flicked his feet.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, I’ll unhook the seat belt.”

Ah, the seat belt, that was what was pushing against his ribcage. “Wait! I’ll fall.”

“I’ve got you.”

“No, no. I need a snack.”

Rush huffed. “There is no time for snacks. We need to move.”

“Glove compartment.”

“Tim, I’ll get you all the snacks in the world once we get out of here, but right now is not the time for a snack.”

“Can’t keep my barrier up without energy.”

Rush stilled. “Barrier as in?”

“Can’t keep your emotions out of me.”

Rush shook his head. “Babe, my emotions are the least of our worries right now. I’m pretty sure someone will be on their way down the slope with a gun to take us out. We’ve already been here for a few minutes, and you look a lot like Nico.”

He did not look like Nico. Nico insisted on having his hair too long, so it flopped down into his eyes. He was covered in tattoos and piercings, same as Rush. And this love of threadbare jeans, where did it come from? Who paid money for jeans with holes in them? He made a displeased noise at the back of his throat and glared at Rush.

“If they’ve tracked me for a few days, they’ll assume you’re him.”

Right, his fucking brother and his fucking best friend were criminals, and they pissed off different groups of people for a living.

“Don’t ever call me babe.”

Rush gave him a small smile. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Timothy snorted but gripped the headrest and braced his leg against the middle console. “Get out of the way.”

“I’ll catch you.”

“No, you’ll keep your hands to yourself.” He wiped blood from his brow. He must’ve hit the steering wheel or the window or something. “I’ll get down feet first.” He pulled his legs up and turned best he could while more or less hanging in the seat belt.

Rush nodded and slid out. Timothy took a moment to get his bearings. The car was stuck in a tree, as Rush had said, but there wasn’t a big drop to the ground.

Rush was crouching low as he looked in at him. “I see a car right on the lip of the road, no one moving in the slope.”

Timothy nodded and slid over the middle console, the seat belt almost creating a noose around his neck, but he turned so his chin didn’t get caught. Large hands grabbed his hips. Normally, he’d have kicked Rush for touching him, but now he let go, slid down, and landed with his feet between Rush’s. The warmth of his body against Timothy’s made him shiver. Rush’s hands remained curled around his hips. “Nothing broken?”

Timothy shook his head since his voice had abandoned him. Fear, lust, and excitement grew inside—not his.

“I need a snack.”

Rush released him and grabbed his backpack. “We need to run. We’re within shooting range, and they’re waiting up there.”

“And they’re… human?” If they were psychics, there was no knowing what skills they had.

Rush rubbed his neck. “Shifters.”

In other words, much faster than them and most likely able to track them wherever they went. “Shifters?”

“If it’s the same guys who did my car in.”

Timothy wanted to curse him, wanted to call him an idiot, wanted to kick him in the nuts. Dickhead. Instead, he reached into the glove compartment, grabbed a Snickers and tucked it into his pocket. Then he reached for a bag of pretzels and one of dried apricots.

He wiped more blood off his brow and squinted at Rush. “Okay, now what?”