Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

“You trust me now?”
A small sigh. “Maybe.”
“I’ll take a maybe.” He grins. Turns on the car. “Let’s get
the hell out of here.”
Adam is shaking.
His bare body is finally cracking under the cold weather,
the hours of torture, the strain of holding himself together
for so long. I’m scrambling through the duffel bags,
searching for a coat, but all I find are shirts and sweaters. I
don’t know how to get them on his body without causing
him pain.
I decide to cut them up. I take the butterfly knife to a few
of his sweaters and slice them open, draping them around
his figure like a blanket. I glance up. “Kenji—does this car
have a heater?”
“It’s on, but it’s pretty crappy. It’s not working very well.”
“How much longer until we get there?”
“Not too much.”
“Have you seen anyone that might be following us?”
“No.” He pauses. “It’s weird. I don’t understand why no
one has noticed a car flying through these streets after
curfew. Something’s not right.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t know what it is, but obviously my tracker
serum isn’t working. Either they really just don’t give a shit
about me, or it’s legit not working, and I don’t know why.”
A tiny detail sits on the outskirts of my consciousness. I
examine it. “Didn’t you say you slept in a shed? That night
you ran away?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Where was it . . . ?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Some huge field. It was weird.
Crazy shit growing in that place. I almost ate something I
thought was fruit before I realized it smelled like ass.”