by Aliyah Burke
Where obviously I’m captured. This just didn’t seem like Clay’s way of doing things. However, who knew what men did when they got desperate. I shouldn’t have fought Dorian on going back; I think he may be the lesser of two evils. Even if she escaped, she wasn’t sure she had her bag with her or not. She couldn’t feel it on or near her.
Footsteps neared, and she closed her eyes, evening out her breathing. Two locks were disengaged before she heard a heavy door slid open, squealing on its hinges. Thudding steps came closer, and she remained still.
“I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I wanted to let you know I want to kill you. Dale wants you alive, because he thinks we can make money off you. Personally, I’d rather just put a bullet between your eyes. It would be a hell of a lot cheaper than having to feed you.” Putrid breath washed over her. “So, for now, you’ve been saved, but do anything disrespectful, and I won’t care what his reaction. I’ll kill you.” He moved away.
Her eyes burned from his halitosis, and she struggled to keep her bile down. Eventually, the door opened again, and she watched through slitted lids that he actually walked out.
Who the hell is Dale, and how come I’m the one who goes from the frying pan into the fire? Pretty much excludes Clay—he wanted to own me, not kill me. At least I don’t think so.
As she worked through the fogginess of whatever she’d been dosed with, she scrambled to try and figure out where she was. No lights on in the room, and obviously, it was small. The door was heavy, and they’d not only tied her up but also put locks on the doors to keep her in on the off chance she escaped her bondage.
When the door opened again, she played opossum once more. This time, whoever it was—Dale, she supposed, by the different smell and sound—undid her ropes. Two items were placed on the floor. One heavy and one much lighter. Alone again, she cracked open her eyes and found a small battery-operated candle, offering the slight light in the room, and a plate of bread and cheese.
She slowly sat and moved her limbs in another effort to loosen them up. Glancing around her, she shook her head in dismay. Nothing to tell her where she was. This room appeared to be a small pantry of sorts. Empty currently aside from her but there wasn’t a lot of space, and the shelves were bare. Nothing to use in the way of a weapon.
She rubbed her arms and stood, minding her aching body. Rotating her ankle, she grinned at the familiar feel of her boot knife secure inside her hiking boot. So, she wasn’t completely unarmed.
Studying the room, she was glad to notice there were no cameras. She stared at the door and sighed when she noticed the hinges were on her side. Escape was imminent. She didn’t know these men, didn’t give a damn about them. All she cared about was getting the fuck out of there and going so deep into hiding no one would find her, again. Still, her suspicion raged. Hidden cameras were always an option, and if they knew she had a knife, she would be killed most likely. At least from the ass who truly needed to get his bad breath checked out, learn to use mouthwash and the like.
When the footsteps neared, yet again, she sat on the cold floor and wrapped her arms around her legs. She squinted against the bright glare and gazed up at the two men who’d come to the door.
Both were built and scary looking. The first one, closer to her in the doorway, had a thick moustache, dark slashing eyebrows, and a scowl. The one behind him had stringy blond hair and a beard of the same color.
“Get up,” the nearest one barked.
She rose cautiously. “What do you want with me?” she asked.
He stroked his moustache. “I’m not sure, yet. There are a lot of things I wanted to do with you. However, I’m in this business to make money.”
She rubbed her throat. “Money?”
“Sure, some man will pay to have you in their house, doing what they want you to. Hell, it may even be a woman who wants to purchase you. Either way, I get money, so it’s a win-win situation.”
Shit. Is there a place to jump from the fire into? Like one of the levels of hell? Or a trip through all of them. How am I lucky enough to go from being stalked to being kidnapped to being sold into human trafficking? God, I need a moment of nothingness in my life.
“So, you want me to sit here until I’m sold?”
The man from the back edged forward. “Want me to kill you, now?”
Damn him for actually looking forward to that prospect. “Can’t say that I do.” She had to remember that it wasn’t wise to provoke this man.
“Then, shut your damn mouth.”
She listened and wished she had the knife in hand. The man closest to her ran his lewd gaze over her. “You’ll stay here until we’re ready to move you.” He turned to the other man. “Did you hide the ambulance?”
“I’m not an idiot,” he snapped. “I covered it.”
“You are an idiot. Stop thinking about that stupid whore you fuck and focus on the job at hand. Move it into the barn.”
“She did as we asked, gave this one the drug. You should be thankful.”
He scowled. “Well I’m not. Get out of here.”
Barn. So, I’m not in the city.
The men glared at one another, and soon, it was just her and the candle as they took the tray with them while the curse words flowed between the two. The locks engaged, and she sank back to the floor.
She checked her watch later on and sighed when she noted the time. The longer she waited, the smaller her window for escape. And that was something she’d become adept at doing. For that reason, she didn’t panic but remained calm and collected. There would be an opportunity. There always was; she just had to take it and be alert enough she didn’t miss it.
A little after midnight, she began working on prying up the pegs in the hinges. Settling the softly lit, battery-operated candle on the shelves, she worked on each of the three. The middle one first, then the bottom, followed by the top.
Once she removed the pins, she began wedging the blade into knuckles to pry the door free. Thank god this door wasn’t as heavy as others. And she was grateful her blade was sturdy. She moved the door aside enough to slip through. Ducking back in, she shut off the candle, so the light didn’t illuminate the outside.
Moving cautiously along, she hoped she wasn’t that far from a town. Somewhere she could get something with wheels. Doubtful she could get the ambulance up and running without them hearing her and potentially stopping her. Wouldn’t hurt to check out and see what vehicles they had, however. They may have something faster. She snuck out the backdoor, moving quietly. A hand slammed over her mouth, and panic rocked her.
“Quiet.”
Dorian’s deep voice rasped along her skin, simultaneously soothing and exciting her. She froze, the hard planes of his body pressed intimately against her.
“How did you find—”
He tightened his hold, cutting off her words.
“Shhh.” His warm breath skated along the whorl of her ear.
Like she had the capability of screaming. He was her best chance, and so, she listened.
“We’re leaving. Do I really have to cuff you?” He paused, and the metal closed over her skin. “They will shoot to kill; remember that if you have any foolish notions of trying to hamper our escape.”
Hamper? Hell, no. I want out of here. “I’ve no wish to be sold into slavery. Get me out of here.”
He took her hand, grasping it firmly. Together, they made their way down the porch steps, each creak louder than a train rumbling by to her ears.
The wind screamed by them, but his heat kept the chill at bay. The ground beneath her feet had such saturation from the rains she sank.
“I saw a car in the barn by the ambulance.”
“Won’t they hear it?” she asked.
“We’ll be quick.”
His confidence bolstered hers. The first drops of rain began the moment they reached the entrance. Soaked in seconds, she shivered from the cold.
A small beam of light from his flashlight splintered the dark
ness as he pushed her in the musty barn, and she saw the ambulance alongside another car. She squinted and made out the shape. As they neared it, she smiled as the recognition sank in.
A Chevy Monza could outmaneuver an ambulance. So long as it ran and had gas in it. Whole lotta if’s going on right there.
“We’re taking it.”
“So sure there’s gas in it?”
“We’ll find out. Get in.”
She climbed into the passenger seat and waited. There weren’t keys on her side, at least not that she could locate.
“Fuck,” he uttered. “No keys on this side.”
“Here, either.”
He unlocked the cuffs and got back out. She dug into her bag he’d given back once she’d climbed in, the loose cuff dangling from her left wrist. When she located her LED keychain, he’d returned.
“Well?”
He cocked his pistol. “No keys.”
“Figured.” She clamped her teeth around the end after she clicked on the light. Wriggling to the floorboard, she positioned herself so she could access the wiring. His long leg brushed against her cheek as she stripped wires and got to work.
“Twice now, you’ve had your head between my legs. One day, I’ll have to reciprocate the favor.”
She nearly dropped her blade at the thought of him burying his head between her thighs. With a deep breath, she connected the wires, twisting them to ensure they remained together. The engine roared to life, and she climbed back into her seat.
“Keep low,” he commanded, slamming them into gear and launching them forward. The gunshots helped her decision, and she crowded herself back into the floorboard. Her ears rang as they peeled out, Dorian returning fire. They skidded onto the road, and she crawled up as he rolled up his window. She stared at him in the light from the dashboard and the occasional flash of lightning.
Dark hair dripped down his face. His blue shirt molded to his torso, emphasizing the muscles he had been blessed with.
And there were so many.
His five o’clock shadow lined his face, and she wanted to touch. How will it feel between my legs?
They raced around another corner, tires squealing as they struggled to maintain purchase.
“Hotwiring?” His tone was calm as he handled the coupe.
“I have many talents,” she replied, glancing out the rear window. “Picked up a lot while working different jobs.” No lights on the road behind them.
“How did you get free?”
“Popped the hinges.”
“With your boot knife?”
How’d he known? “Yes.”
“I’m impressed.”
She wasn’t sure why but his words gave her another thrill. It wasn’t every day she impressed a man. Much less one like him.
Chapter Three
Dorian pulled the Monza into the parking lot of a backwoods cabin rental area. He wasn’t entirely sure where they were. The storm hadn’t abated; in fact, he was pretty sure it had increased.
He glanced over at his passenger. Even in sleep, she appeared tense, stress lingering in her expression. The moment he put them in park, she woke.
“I thought we could use some real sleep and figure out where we are.” Truth was he was tired and sore. She looked like something the cat hadn’t even wanted to drag in. They could both use the rest.
“Cabins?”
“Why not? It’ll be hidden.”
She sat up and stared up at the main building. “Ohh, exciting. They offer porn.”
“Want to audition?”
She yawned. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”
His hand slipped off the handle at her words, and it took him a second to pull himself back together. It wasn’t a road he needed to head down. “Do I have to cuff you again or will you stay put?”
“You’re the lesser of two evils; I’ll stay put. How did you find me?”
He couldn’t take the chance. She could hotwire the car and leave him here. “Luck and a ride from a nice old couple. Come on,” he ordered.
They were soaked in seconds, and he backed her to the door, forcing her to tip her head back to stare at him. Even in the neon glow from the surrounding lights, she had this beauty about her that struck him in ways none had affected him before. Water sluiced down her face as she waited for him to say something. Dorian ran his hand down her arm, allowing himself to luxuriate in the tactile sensation. When his fingertips grazed the cold metal, he groaned and snapped it around the handle of the car.
Her gaze narrowed. “Seriously? You’re locking me to the door, in this weather?”
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said.
He jogged inside and shook the excess water off his head. The walls were dark with animal heads on them. Along one wall, he saw sex toys and shook his head. Striding up to the counter, he rang the silver bell on the desk.
A man lifted his head from where it rested on his chest, his stringy black hair hanging in his eyes. “Yes?” He rose from his seat. “Something I can do for you?”
“I need a room.”
“We have great packages. You can rent some porn and—”
“Give me a room.”
“Sure. All we have left is the honeymoon suite.”
“That’s fine.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out some money.
The man took it and reached behind him for a key. “Have a good night.”
“Sure.” Dorian walked back to the door, pausing when the man hollered out where the cabin was located. Tossing him a casual wave, he stepped back out into the storm.
She stood right where he left her, cuffed to the driver’s door. Her hair was plastered to her head, and the clothes she had on had molded to her body. She made no move to wipe the water and, damn, if he couldn’t see her shivering from where he was.
Fuck. Hastening down to her side, he ignored the glare on her face and unlocked her. “Come on.”
She climbed back in, and he followed, driving them down to their cabin. The silence was taut between them as he escorted her up to the door and inside. It wasn’t bad, the majority of the room taken up by the big bed covered in red and white sheets that looked like silk. Water dripped into puddles around their feet, and again, he noted how much she was shivering.
Walking her to the bathroom, he checked it to ensure she couldn’t escape through the window and released her.
“Get warm.”
“Wouldn’t have to if you’d not locked me to the damn car door.” Her words had more ice in them than the arctic.
“And we wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d not run the first time, tied a string across the doorway and covered the floor in baby oil.”
“Should have left me alone.”
“I’m doing a job.”
“And I’m trying to survive.” She jerked from him and slammed the door in his face.
“Shoulda just got on the damn bus,” he muttered, walking back across the floor, shoes squeaking and squishing with each step.
He heard the shower kick on and shivered, wishing he were also under that hot water. Sure, he could go over there, but she deserved a bit of time to herself. Drawing off his sodden shirt, he draped it over the dresser to drip dry. His stuff was in the back of his car at the bus station. Fat lot of good it did him here.
Dorian went to her bag and dug back through it. There wasn’t much. At least she has cash. Which was good, as he only had a small amount on him while the rest remained in his bag. No credit cards, not even the prepaid ones. Nothing of the personal nature in there, and he didn’t understand it. A woman on the run—why wasn’t there anything that reminded her of those who loved her?
The shower turned off, and he rose from her bag, leaving it alone. She walked out a minute later, wrapped up in a large white robe. Her hair, hanging around her shoulders, cut through the pristine white. Steam rolled out from the bathroom behind her.
He strode in her direction. Her gaze sharpened, but she didn’t back up or look away. “I’m free
zing, as well,” he said.
“Bully for you.”
“If I come out of there and you’re gone…”
She shook her head. “I’m going to go sit there and warm up. I’m exhausted, and this is as good a place as any to crash. Do try to keep the porn down, though, will you?” She ducked by him and walked to the bed.
Dorian hesitated, thinking she may be playing him again, but the utter exhaustion on her face did him in. She wasn’t going anywhere. He may regret it, but he actually believed her. So, he walked into the bathroom and was in the shower moments later. The hot water pelted his skin, and he moaned as warmth returned to his body. She truly must have been cold given how he’d tied her out there. When he finished, he stepped out onto the mat and reached for another towel.
Securing it around his waist, he left the bathroom and looked to the bed. Sakharre was curled up beneath the bedding, the robe across the foot of the bed. He walked to the door of the cabin and peered out. Rain and more rain. Thunder boomed, and lightning cracked the sky. He closed it on the wrath of nature, and locked it.
He stared at the sofa then shut off the light and crawled into bed. Rain pounded on the windows, and he closed his eyes, setting a mental alarm to wake up in sixty mikes. He would check everything out then get some more rest so long as everything was secure.
Just before he dozed off, she shifted in the bed and rolled against him. He stilled, eyes flashing open to see pitch dark. Christ. She’s naked. Her breasts pressed into his chest, and his cock jumped to attention. It sure as hell wasn’t exhausted.
A soft, sexy moan slipped from her lips as she burrowed closer, soaking up his heat while she created more. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think about anything other than how they were both naked and in this bed.
He dozed, remaining highly aware of the woman beside him. When his internal alarm went off, he began to slide free of the bed and Sakharre, who had draped over him. She whimpered and held tighter.
