by Naomi West
For a moment, I could only stare down at the phone in my lap, but then I hesitantly, with shaking fingers, picked up the call, clearing my throat as I did so. “Barry?” I asked, wishing my voice sounded a little stronger. What would Rip do if Barry got suspicious? How would I head off my brother's worry?
“Sis?” Barry asked, and his familiar voice was like a balm to my soul. We'd always been close as kids, but more than that, I just needed to talk to someone I knew right then. “Hey, I know you're on your trip and probably have way better things to be doing right now, but I was wondering if you could recommend a good mechanic. My regular shop is apparently closed and I'm stranded on the side of the road...”
I frowned into the phone. “Why don't you call the insurance company?” I asked. “They'd probably be able to help you out. But what happened? Are you okay? Did you get into an accident?” I tried to keep from panicking, reminding myself that he probably wouldn't sound so calm if he'd been in an accident or if he was hurt. But I couldn't help remembering back when he was eleven years old … I swallowed hard.
“I'm fine,” Barry said quickly, clearly hearing my distress. “Really, I'm fine. The car's fine. Everything's fine. I've just, uh, got a flat tire that needs changing. And I'm not really sure what to do. I tried calling Dad, but he's not picking up either and I know he has some meetings and things. Normally, I'd just ask you to come help me out so I wouldn't have to foot the bill to have the mechanic involved, but since you aren't in town.”
“I'm in town,” I interrupted, glancing up at Rip and biting my lower lip. “It's a bit of a long story, but I'm still in town.” And I wanted to help him; I knew that with his medical bills, he couldn't afford to call the mechanic for something so frivolous as a blown tire. “Where are you?”
“Route 6, right between tunnels two and three,” Barry said, only mild curiosity in his voice. He paused. “I know it's asking a lot, as always, but I could really use a hand, if you're around to help. I can't even get in to where the spare tire is in the trunk...”
“I know,” I said, hoping my voice sounded soothing. I glanced up at Rip again. “I'll be there as quickly as I can, okay? Just hang tight.”
Barry sighed, and I could hear the relief in his voice. “That would be so great,” he said. “Thanks, sis.”
“Don't mention it, kid,” I said. “I'll be there soon.” I hung up the phone, looking up at Rip with pleading eyes. I knew I should have asked permission before agreeing to go to where my brother was stranded, but I didn't exactly know how to tell Barry that I needed to ask permission before agreeing to help him out. It would have been suspicious at best. Anyway, I wasn't about to let Rip tell me I couldn't help out my brother, not when he was stranded on the side of the road.
“That was my brother,” I said, as though that hadn't already been clear. “He needs help changing a tire on his car — he has a flat. I have to go help him.”
Rip's expression turned into a sneer. “He doesn't know how to change a tire? Just how young is this kid anyway?”
I scowled at him as well and pushed myself into a standing position, forgetting for a moment that I was supposed to be going along with what Rip wanted, just in case he decided to make my life a living hell. “He's twenty-two,” I snapped. “But he's been paralyzed from the waist down since he was eleven, so you'll have to forgive him for not being able to change his own tire. I have to go help him.”
Something flickered across Rip's expression, faster than I was able to comprehend. But I didn't think he was angry with me. Instead, it seemed he was considering again. For a wild moment, I wondered what kind of hardened criminal he was that he didn't seem to know what to do with me, and that he wasn't able to keep his expression set to neutral. But I didn't really want to know what he was up to anyway.
“I have to go help him,” I said again, this time more pleadingly. But I was already moving towards the door, grabbing my keys off the front table.
“Wait,” Rip said, catching my upper arm in his grip — but he was more gentle than he'd been the previous day. He scanned my face, expression unreadable. “I'll drive,” he said finally.
I stared back at him for a long moment, wondering just how I was going to explain all of this to my brother. But that wasn't important just then. “Okay,” I agreed.
Chapter Three
Liv
It was easy to spot Barry where he had pulled off to the side of the road. For a wild moment, I wondered why no one else had stopped to help him when he very clearly needed help. But then again, with the way he was sitting on the open trunk of the car, maybe they thought he was just waiting for a tow company or something like that. It wasn't as though he was sitting out there in his wheelchair.
Rip carefully eased my car over to the side of the road in front of Barry's car and threw on the hazard lights. I was out of the car almost before we had fully come to a stop.
“Are you okay?” I asked, scanning his body for signs of injury. He had said over the phone that it was just a flat, but I knew he wouldn't want me to worry. It could have been much worse than what he'd let on.
“I'm fine,” Barry said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes a little. He tugged his wheelchair out of the trunk next to him and dropped it unceremoniously onto the ground, dropping down into it with a little grunt. “I probably just hit a rock the wrong way or something like that. These things happen, you know.”
“I know, but—”
“Who's this?” Barry interrupted, his brows furrowing as he caught sight of Rip. He looked back and forth between the two of us.
“This is Rip,” I said after a beat, trying to think how to explain who exactly Rip was and what he was doing there.
“Rip Stevens,” Rip said, moving forward and holding out a hand to my brother. “Liv here says you need help changing a flat? You've got a spare somewhere back in here?”
“But seriously, who is he?” Barry asked me in an undertone as Rip worked to change the tire, his strong hands moving deftly to jack up the car and remove the screws holding the wheel in place.
I glanced over at Barry. It would have been so easy to tell him right then, to get him to call the police and tell them that Rip Stevens was holding me captive ... but something held me back. I shrugged a little. “He's just a friend who happened to be around when you called.”
“What about Hollande?” Barry asked.
I was surprised for a moment that Barry had asked about Hollande, since I knew that the two of them didn't get along. But I supposed that was why Barry was asking. I shrugged again. “Rip isn't ... that sort of friend.”
Soon, Rip was wiping off his hands and putting the tools back into the car. “That should do it for now,” he said. “Of course, you'll want to get it changed out for a real tire at some point instead of just a spare, but—”
“I know,” Barry said, bristling a little. “Just because I can't change the damn thing myself doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing. I've been driving on my own for years now, and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, holding my hands up even though I understood my brother's ire. I had seen people write him off more times than I could count. But I knew deep down in my gut that Rip didn't mean it that way, that he actually was just trying to look out for my brother. The thought warmed me in ways I wasn't ready to examine.
“I'm sorry,” Rip said, further cementing my thoughts that he hadn't really meant to slight my brother.
We all stared at one another for a moment. Finally, I leaned in and gave Barry a hug. “Enjoy the rest of your day, and be safe out there.”
“Love you,” Barry said, hugging me back. In an undertone, he added, “Be careful. I don't know what you're doing, but...”
I gave him a tight smile as we broke apart and turned back to face Rip. “Ready to go?”
“You've made your brother a liability,” Rip pointed out as we drove home. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the headrest.
“No, I haven't,” I argued wearily.
It was something I'd been going over in my own head since Rip had agreed to drive me over to where Barry was. “He doesn't know who you are — or even that you were just supposed to be renting my place for a couple nights while I was out of town. He thinks you're a long-lost friend. Probably thinks we're sleeping together or something, I don't know.”
Rip gave me a skeptical look. “Sure, because you look like the type of person who will sleep around with someone like me,” he said.
I blushed and ducked my head a little. “I mean, I know I'm not the most attractive—”
“That's not what I'm talking about,” Rip interrupted, leering sidelong at me. “You've got nice curves. But those clothes...”
“I'm a librarian,” I said defensively.
He snorted but didn't say anything else.
“Anyway, Barry needed my help,” I continued, shrugging. “He wouldn't have called me unless he was really desperate, and I couldn't just ... leave him there. And he's a student; it's not like he has the money to just throw around getting a tow company to come help him out or something like that.”
Rip was silent for a long moment, tapping his fingers against the edge of the steering wheel. I wondered what was going on in that head of his. Of course, I could tell he wasn't really the type of person to really think things through — he was brash, impulsive… That was part of why he appealed to me, beyond his firm muscles and total masculinity. That sort of attitude was contagious, and I wanted desperately to be more adventurous.
Speaking of adventure… “I have a flight to catch,” I said, glancing at the clock. In fact, it was just about time that I left for the airport again.
Rip frowned. “That ... isn't a possibility at the moment,” he said finally. He glanced over at me, looking even more agitated. “As I said, I don't like the idea of taking hostages; it just makes everything messier. But I can't have you going to the police and foiling my mission.”
“Which is…?” I asked. I shook my head impatiently. “Look, I don't know what you think I overheard. I mean, I'm starting to realize that whatever it is, it's probably not legal, but for all I know, you were discussing a video game or something like that.” I laughed nervously. “What would I even tell the police? I'd sound like an idiot — 'oh, just my gut instinct says that he might be doing something wrong at some point soon…' I don't think so.”
Rip slammed his hand against the edge of the steering wheel. “I know you must have heard worse than that, or else you wouldn't have tried to run when you saw me.” His brow furrowed. “You weren't even supposed to be there. Everything was supposed to be done cleanly.”
“Well, I didn't exactly want to get caught up in some sort of illegal thing either,” I pointed out, rolling my eyes. As we stopped in my driveway, I climbed out of the car, pausing for a moment on the front walk and then heading towards the door. The thing was, I was pretty sure I should be screaming for help — surely one of my neighbors would be able to help me out. But for some reason, I still walked meekly into my house, letting Rip follow behind me.
What I didn't expect was for him to catch me the moment the door closed and pin me against the wall. “Unattractive,” he snorted, shaking his head in amusement. He stroked a gentle line down my side, slowly trailing his fingertips against my breasts and my thin waist before letting the hand rest warmly against my hip. “The things I'd do to you, if you would let me,” he said, his voice lustful and slightly deeper than usual.
“What kinds of things?” I breathed, even though I knew I should be pushing him away. It was one thing to desire the man, to have my own private thoughts of all the things I'd like him to do to me, all the ways that he could make me come undone. But it was another thing entirely to allow him to run with those fantasies. I wasn't the type of woman to have sex with random strangers in the first place, and I couldn't help thinking guiltily about Hollande and what he would make of this whole situation… He'd told me he wouldn't date me unless I was more adventurous, but I didn't really think that sleeping with a random guy was going to get Hollande to date me either.
Rip caught my wrists easily in one of his strong hands and pinned them up above my head. “For starters, I'd like to tease you,” he purred, leaning in to nip at my earlobe and then tracking his lips down along my jawline. Just before he reached my mouth, though, he pulled away, leaving me aching for a kiss that wasn't coming. Rip grinned wickedly, as though sensing my need.
Then, he pulled away entirely, leaving me shaking a little where I was still pressed against the wall. “Predictable,” he muttered under his breath.
I blushed and ducked my head a little. “I'm trying not to be,” I told him, the words rushing out of my mouth. “I'm trying to be more adventurous. That's what this whole thing was about. That's why I opened up my home to you on AirBnB. And look where all of this has got me.”
Rip stared at me and then finally shook his head, exhaling noisily. “You're going to have to come with me on the road,” he told me.
Chapter Four
Rip
I knew that bringing Liv with me on the road was a mistake, but I didn't really know what else to do with her. I was still silently fuming over the fact that she had overheard me, that I had made it so easy for my mission to be found out — or at least, what little I knew about it. I didn't know exactly how much she had overheard, but I had definitely mentioned the national president of the Gemini Riders a few times — and at least one of those times, it had been by name.
Anyone who didn't know the name 'Cat Zodiac' must have been living under a rock for years.
Early the next morning, I made coffee in Liv's kitchen before I went to make sure she was awake and ready to go. I had tied her to the bed the night before just to make sure that she didn't try anything over the course of the night. When I walked in, she was still asleep, her hair fanning out over the pillow, arms akimbo in the ties. She looked strikingly beautiful like that, and I was reminded again about how much I'd like to pound into her milky ass, grabbing at her curves and biting hard enough to leave marks littering her neckline.
But this whole thing was enough of a mess as it was without me sleeping with my hostage.
I roughly shook her awake and then moved to undo the ties keeping her there on the bed. “No funny business today,” I growled.
I saw a flicker of fear in Liv's sleep-heavy eyes for a moment, but then she blinked and pushed herself up into a sitting position. “What's the plan?” she asked.
“We're leaving,” I said.
“I know that,” Liv said impatiently, rolling her eyes a little. “You told me that last night. But how long do I have to ... freshen up? And where are we going? What should I pack?”
“You're not packing anything,” I said exasperatedly. “This isn't a vacation, this is a hostage-taking situation.”
“A kidnapping,” Liv said, nodding at me. “But can I at least take the suitcase that I already packed for the trip that I was supposed to take? Maybe with some modifications based on how the weather is where we're going — wherever that is.”
“I can't tell you where we're going,” I snapped. “The last thing I need is for you to be running around with even more information you can bring to the cops. It's bad enough that you already know—”
“I don't know anything,” Liv interrupted. “Really, you could just leave me here and I wouldn't be able to do anything. I don't even know if 'Rip Stevens' is your real name!”
“You wanted to be more spontaneous, didn't you?” I finally reasoned. And I could see in that slight hesitation that she was second-guessing herself. “Look, it's nothing dangerous. I just have a package that I need to deliver to someone — that's it. But in the spirit of being more adventurous, well, I'm riding clear across the country to do this, and there's still a lot of land left between here and where I'm going.”
“What sort of a package is it?” Liv asked suspiciously.
I shrugged. “Does it really matter? I don't really know; one of my friends needed it deliver
ed to another of my friends, so here I am.” It was only partially a lie. I had my suspicions about what was there in the boxes that I was carrying across the country with me, but I didn't know anything for certain. There were only so many things that the head of one of the most dangerous biker gangs in the world would want delivered to her in jail, though.
Liv moved slowly so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed, cocking her head to the side. “But aren't you curious?” she asked. “You said on the phone that no one else would do this, that it was dangerous. Don't you want to know what you're carrying?”
And that, at least, gave me an inkling of how much she'd heard. It was too much. I narrowed my eyes at her. “It's none of my business,” I said.
“Whoever your friends are, they're putting your life at risk to carry this package, apparently,” Liv said. “I don't think that's the kind of thing that friends do.”
