Chapter 118 Rain And Promises

• Rachel POV
• The highway stretched before us, a ribbon of asphalt slicing through the endless plains, its edges blurred by the golden haze of dusk, the truck’s tires humming a steady rhythm, their low drone a counterpoint to the engine’s throaty growl, a sound that matched the fierce beat of my heart, free at last from the gilded cage of Scarlett’s Beverly Hills mansion, from the scar on my side that still whispered of Celine’s bullet, from the lovesickness that had nearly shattered me. Jeremy’s hand rested on my thigh, his fingers warm through the worn denim of my jeans, their gentle pressure a lifeline, his cedar-and-musk scent filling the cab, a comfort that anchored me, a reminder of Miami nights by the pool, of stolen kisses under the neon glow, of a love that had survived Celine’s venomous blackmail, Nick’s cold demands, and Scarlett’s tear-soaked control.
• We’d filled the tank at a dusty gas station hours ago, the clerk’s bored glance a fleeting shadow against the thrill in my chest, the electric joy of being on the road with Jeremy, no destination but each other, no chains but the ones we chose—our love, our promise, our forever, a vow forged in the fire of our escape, in the laughter of a diner, in the miles we’d claimed as ours. Days had blurred into a tapestry of freedom, the truck carrying us through the sun-scorched deserts and sleepy small towns, past neon-lit diners with their buzzing signs, past wind-swept fields where wildflowers danced, each mile a defiance of the past, of the Morrows’ scandal that had branded us, of the hospital’s sterile haze where I’d fought to live, my blood pooling, my heart clinging to Jeremy, of the mansion where my parents had tried to cage me, their fear a heavier chain than any lock.