by A. J. Macey
Holy shit was the only thought that continued to rattle around in my head as the man got out of the car. Glancing around, I didn't see anyone around, no homes, no shops, no anything. We had driven decently far out of the city area where I’d been chased, meaning I wasn’t anywhere close to my apartment or friends.
When I glanced at the door, I noticed the lock pin was up so without much thought, I grabbed the handle and shoved it open. Making sure I had a good grip on my bag, I darted out and down the sideway. A deep grumble sounded from behind me and unfortunately, with his long legs, he ate up the distance between us in no time at all. Two strong arms wrapped around my waist, forcing me to a stop.
“Put me down!” I screamed. Somehow he was able to pluck me off the ground easily and bring me back to the car. My heart rate started racing almost painfully in my chest, and no matter how hard I hit his arms wrapped around me or kicked him in the leg, nothing seemed to do any good, I didn't even budge in his grasp.
“Could you just—” he ground out, his question ending in a groan when I finally got him between the legs. The steely grasp loosened and I was able to drop to the ground, but we were right next to the car so before I could try and run for it again, he smashed me against the cold metal.
“What do you want with me?” I demanded, trying hard to ignore the fear that was filling me. Bile started to rise up my throat as everything slowly pressed down on me, each shitty moment in the last half hour filling my mind. All I wanted to do was nail my interview. I frowned, blinking away the urge to cry.
“I'm just trying to fucking talk to you. Is that all right with you?” he snapped, grabbing my wrists and pinning me to the car when I tried to throw an elbow. “Fuck! You’re fucking strong for such a small woman.”
I didn’t respond to the little comment, angling the best I could and glaring up at him. The fact that I had to crane my neck back to see him only emphasized his point. I sighed, deflating slightly when I realized I wasn't able to move.
“Now,” he started, “let's have a conversation like two adults, okay?”
Grinding my teeth, I bit back the annoyance at him talking down to me like I was a toddler, but I knew if I continued to fight, the longer I would have to stay there. I just have to distract him, I mused, talk to him until he lets me go and then I can run. With the plan forming in my thoughts, I waited for him to continue to see what he wanted to talk about. Unfortunately, in a long pause in our conversation and with the adrenaline pumping through my system, I realized I was over sensitized. I felt every hard muscle pressing against me, from the ridges of his abs beneath his T-shirt to the soft leather of his jacket against my arms.
And most of all, I felt the quickly hardening bulge against my hip. Is that…? No, it couldn't be. But the longer I stood there, noting each time I moved, the harder it got. My mouth grew dry. Oh, of course my kidnapper would get turned on by the struggle, because why couldn't I have a normal person to help me? I ranted internally.
As much as I wanted to hate my body for reacting the way it was, I couldn’t stop the enjoyment filling me with the feeling of his body against mine. Not now, I commanded my brain. This is so not the time to get turned on. I shoved it away, not willing to focus on those thoughts. I had too much to deal with already.
“Right now, it seems that you’re in a bit of a problem,” he stated, oblivious to my ridiculous internal monologuing. “So, you want to tell me what the hell happened?”
I swallowed hard, trying to come up with something to say, but there was nothing that came to mind. No alibi or ruse I could use, knowing he had most likely seen the men chasing me. As I tried to think, I found my eyes narrowing on his hands where they held me. What the…? I thought until I realized the dark red streaks across his knuckles was blood.
“Are you one of them?” I whispered.
“No, I'm not one of those fucking assholes.” The hard conviction in his tone made me startle, jumping slightly.
“Oh,” I muttered quietly, sagging against the car. The adrenaline was fading, leaving my legs shaky and my body drained, and I was actually thankful for him holding me against the car, keeping me upright.
“As for your question, I just… I don't even know.” I started to laugh, the sound slightly hysterical even to my own ears. “I was walking down the street and I heard some noises when I was trying to get back to my place and…”
My eyes burned and everything before me started to waver behind the wall of tears blurring my sight. Everything had hit me at that point, but it didn't occur to me, not really anyway, that I had witnessed someone get murdered until that very moment.
“What did you see?” There was no demanding, no yelling. Hell, if I didn’t know any better, I would say he actually gave a shit, with how quiet he made his voice. But I didn't put too much stock into that, knowing I was an emotional mess at that point and no doubt wanting some semblance of stability to hold on to.
“Four guys, they were… they were beating this guy up. I didn't react or help. I didn't have time before one of them shot him,” I ground out, remembering the sound of the gun when it went off, the loud crack echoing around in my head. The memory played over and over on a loop in my head. Each time more details stood out; the blood spattering against the pavement, the man no longer moving, the tiny smiles and almost glee in the guys’ gazes as they watched.
All of it made my stomach turn, but thankfully, I was able to keep the acid and the bile down knowing that if I had thrown up right then it would have been on myself, still being pinned to the car. Talk about a shitty ending to a shitty day.
“Who are you?” I finally asked when he hadn't said anything. “Why did you even grab me? You say you're not one of them, but like, I don't know you and you kidnapped me!” My words grew louder, more hysterical. I felt out of control, too exposed, too vulnerable. My mouth continued to blabber on and I was unable to stop myself. “You could be dangerous for all I know. And yet here I am telling you this entire story.”
What the hell is wrong with you? First you witness a murder and then get yourself kidnapped and somehow seem okay trusting a stranger—the very same one that kidnapped you—with the entire story, I wondered in shock.
“I could say the same for you,” he challenged me.
I scoffed. “Do I look dangerous to you?” I angled to look at him once more, my face filled with surprise. “You seem unmoved by me and my ability to do anything dangerous.”
The man stared down at me with a keen expression. Sharp blue eyes seemed to see right through me, so I focused on anything other than his glacier gaze. His skin was a golden tan, his sharp and defined jaw covered in a wash of dark stubble. Dark brown almost black hair was cut short and only added to his appeal. Why am I checking out my kidnapper? I asked myself, forcing my head back to looking at the car.
“You'd be surprised at what someone's exterior looks like and how dangerous they are,” he told me. “I've known some pretty horrible people, women in particular.”
“Well, that's great for you,” I exclaimed sarcastically. “But I am not. I'm just some normal person traveling overseas. And I just—of course—ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because why wouldn’t that be my luck?” I huffed. “Can you let me go now?”
“Are you going to run again?”
“Why do you even give a shit?” I challenged, not answering his question.
“Well then, I'm not going to move,” he said, his tone firm. “Not until I know that you're not going to try and run off, go to the cops, and say that I kidnapped you.”
“News flash, you did kidnap me.”
He sighed, his chest shifting against my back, telling me just how annoyed he was, but feeling his broad torso against me, moving, grounded me somehow. My body reacted to his and I realized while he did kidnap me and was holding me hostage, he hadn't hurt me, not really.
And at this point, could I have asked for anything better?
Liam
She was small and curvy. The swe
ll of her hips and chest was distracting, but what I found even more distracting was her sassy mouth and quick comments. It should have annoyed me that she was arguing so much, not giving me straight answers, and just generally being a pain in my ass, but I found myself unable to resist it. Hard as a rock and wanting more... not exactly what I expected when I got up this morning. If the soft blush that kept darkening on her cheeks each time I shifted was any indication, her thoughts were going the same direction as mine.
Eventually I forced the imaginative ideas of what I wanted to do away, knowing I had to focus. I didn't know how much time there was before the Phantoms decided to move again, either against my brothers and our crew or against another individual. As much as I hated to get attached, I worried about the small woman currently pinned between me and my car. What the hell is going on with me? One feeling of her ass against me and I'm a fucking goner. How pathetic.
“Can you let me go?” she asked again. This time, all the fight in her voice deflated.
“Are you going to run?”
“Well, last time I tried, it didn't go so well now did it?” she sassed, her emerald eyes finding mine once more. The fire sparkled in her gaze, but this time resignation was clear on her face. Her pink kissable lips pursed, tilting into a tiny frown.
“All right,” I reluctantly agreed, not wanting to step back. I was enjoying the sensation of her against me way too much, but I finally released her wrists and shifted back half a step. I knew I should have given her more room, hell, I should have turned, gotten in the car, and driven away. But something about the woman called to me, made me want. To savor her, devour her, everything my mind could possibly think of, but I held the urges at bay, but only just.
It was safer that way.
She turned, crossing her arms over the front of her, the move making her brush against the shirt that I was wearing. Her cheeks tinted pink, a tiny blush blooming on her fair skin. I tried to contain my smirk, but I wasn’t all that successful. Thankfully, by the time she finally looked up at me, I had my mask back in place. As we stood there in silence, now that I didn't have to worry about her running, hopefully at least, I ran through what she had told me. So, a few Phantoms killed a man; the fifth in the last few months.
Warning bells were going off in my head at the information. They were prepping for something big and whatever it was, I needed to know more about it, but at the same time, I didn't know if I could risk the liability of having her with me.
They didn't know who she was, and while they were aware of who I was by the time that we had pulled away from the sidewalk, they weren’t able to keep up. We could play this simple. She could go back to her life doing whatever it was that she was doing here from America—if I had pinned her accent correctly—and I could deal with the situation without extra collateral damage. I would just go back to tackling the Auckland Kings’ current problem—dealing with all the issues that the Phantoms were causing, including this.
Messing with our cars that we were prepping for sale, nabbing our shipments in and out of port, and leaving more of a bloody trail throughout the city, no doubt bringing more attention to criminals than we needed.
Fucking bastards, I growled.
But even with all of those reasons to walk away, I couldn't seem to do that. I couldn't seem to agree with the logic. It would be nice to hit them where they hurt, and whatever she saw—or more importantly whoever she saw—could help me do that. Several Phantoms out of the picture, not just for us at the Auckland Kings, but for the city itself.
She knew something; she was valuable both to them and to me, but I also knew what a risk that was too. One too dangerous to really take with her near me. And yet, for whatever reason, I continued to stand there staring at her instead of being smart.
Her eyes trailed down my torso before glancing up at my face. Curiosity was bright in her gaze, her brows furrowing as she tried to pick me apart. I was surprised she hadn't run yet; I knew how I looked. Criminal, dangerous, but then again, she might have realized the amount of shit that she was in and that I was the only option to get her out of it.
“So, now what?” she asked, shuffling back and forth uncomfortably after I continued to stare. She was easy to rattle, but she didn't back down, maintaining eye contact. She was a unique one, and I found myself enjoying it. Way too much to be healthy, but at that point I made up my mind before logic could try and reason with me otherwise.
“Let's go,” I directed, holding the passenger door open for her. This better not come back to bite me in the ass. I knew that once she got in the car, there was no going back.
3
Harper
“Go where?” I asked, wondering why the hell he wanted to take me anywhere other than home, but I couldn't stop myself from being curious. A sliver of me even wanted to go with him, but I was purposely ignoring that little voice.
He sighed, half glaring at me. “Well, if you'd get in the car, you would know now, wouldn't you?” he challenged, growing impatient with all the questioning.
I smashed my lips together, my nails digging into my palm. For a split second, I considered running again just to be a pain in the ass, but I knew it was a dumb decision. At this point he was offering me to sit in the front seat like an actual human being and not some piece of cargo, and I had an inkling that if I pushed him too far, he would just bring me back and toss me into the back seat again. Finally giving in, I deflated, walking over and sinking into the leather seat.
“Was that so hard?” His lip perked up. The sexy smirk transformed his expression from cold and stoic to something that I found myself enjoying a little too much, but I shoved that away and locked it in the back of my mind.
Focus on staying alive, I commanded, on getting out of this situation scot free, not on the man's sexy body and attractive face. Despite the reminder, I watched him intently as he made his way around the hood of the car, enjoying his confident strides.
The slam of the car door and the engine turning over filled the space a moment later, the radio playing some song I didn't recognize. The silence lulling between us was thick and I tried not to shuffle in my seat to showcase how uncomfortable I was. Neither of us said anything for a while, and after some time, I relaxed in his presence.
My eyes trailing over the town, I kept my thoughts to myself wondering where he was taking me. I knew I should have been worried, should have fought harder or tried to escape, and that if this was the movies he would probably be taking me to some creepy lair or to kill me and dump me into the bay. But at that point, my body was too tired, too drained from everything that had happened.
“So,” he drawled, breaking the silence. “What’s your name?”
My eyes widened at the small talk. “Uhm, Harper,” I told him hesitantly.
“Harper,” he murmured, as if he was testing it out. Hearing my name in his deep voice and New Zealand accent did funny things to me, and I shifted in my seat, trying to hide how much I had enjoyed it.
“Well, where do you live, Harper?” he asked, oblivious to my internal battle of fighting my growing attraction to a literal stranger. He turned then, the direction looking to head back to the city.
“Like I'm going to tell a stranger who's kidnapped me, my place of residence.” I might have been too tired to come up with some semblance of a plan, but it seemed my sass was still going strong, even though I felt like I could sleep for an entire week. His jaw clenched and his eyes snapped over to me.
“You—” He’d just opened his mouth to say something but his phone started to ring, cutting him off. “What?” he snapped as he answered the call, annoyance dripping from the word.
He had barely had time to look at the screen, so I couldn't tell if the annoyance was because of me or if it was because of who had called him. Straining to hear, I tried to decipher what they were talking about, but I couldn't. I could hear a deep voice, telling me it was a man who’d called my captor.
“Yes, I have the parts. I’m on the way,” he p
ractically growled, the anger and coolness in his voice surprising me. The harsh note made me realize that our conversation up until this point had been civilized, almost pleasant, in comparison to how he was talking to the man on the phone. The sliver of fear that had been icing my veins for the last half hour grew slightly, and yet I found myself enjoying the deep gravel in his voice.
What the hell is wrong with me? Did I hit my head at some point when he tossed me to the car or pinned me up against the door? One run in with danger, and I'd lost all common sense.
“I'll be there in about twenty minutes. You can tell the guys at the garage that the parts will be there in enough time for them to finish up, okay? Yes, I got it. Goodbye,” he ground out, hanging up forcefully before chucking his phone into the backseat. I wanted to make a comment, but finally was able to keep my mouth from saying something I knew I would probably regret. Releasing a breath, his shoulders finally relaxed from having tightened and tensed when he was on the phone. His attention was still on the road, but I saw him glance at me out of the corner of his eye.
“I could have hurt you, Harper,” he told me coolly, “but I didn't.”
My brows furrowed, having no clue what to say to that. I had completely forgotten what we had been talking about before the phone call.
“So are you going to give me your address so I can take you home?” he prompted, reminding me.
“All right, fine.” I gave in, rattling off where my rental was. He didn't respond, turning on the next street. It didn’t take long for me to recognize where we were at that point. Hm, not too far from my place. I perked up. Only a couple of blocks and I’ll be free from the dangerous man next to me.
When we pulled up in front of the building, I felt like I was almost at the end of the finish line of a long race, my body craving to be in my own space and pretend that the day hadn't happened. I knew once I got out of this car, nothing would go back to the way it was, but my brain was clinging to an illusion it would go back to normal.
