Hunted in the Dark

by Stacia Stone

  I twist my hips to try to shove him off but it’s like trying to move a brick wall. The last thing I want is a reminder of what I’ve been reduced to. “When you finally find this information you want or you finally accept that it doesn’t exist…what about me?” My tears have dried up and I’m too angry for them to return. “What happens to me when this is all over?”

  He abruptly rolls away from me. “Go to sleep.”

  “Do you even know?” I whisper harshly in the dark. “Do you have any idea what you’re going to do next?”

  “Sophia, please. Just be quiet.”

  Hunt’s voice is resigned and so tired. I realize with a start that it’s been over twenty-four hours since either of us last slept. His body is turned away from me so his back is at my side. He hasn’t moved far because I can still feel the heat of his body through the thin sheet.

  I know in my heart that something has changed between us. We’re connected now, in a way that we weren’t before.

  I just don’t know if that connection is enough to save me.

  Chapter 15

  I’m a fucking idiot.

  Sophia sits silently beside me as we drive down some Tennessee back road that’s just miles and miles of darkness. A pair of headlights passes us, heading the other direction once every thirty minutes or so.

  The stereotype has always been of the woman who gets too emotionally involved after sex and lets a quick fuck get into her head and mess it all up. But I’m the one acting like an overly emotional bitch. I’m the one who let some little girl crawl inside of my head and now it’s impossible to get her out.

  I want to know what she’s thinking, but not enough to ask her. Not enough to reveal that my mind is in complete turmoil. Plus, I don’t want another round of waterworks out of her.

  We’re on the road for over an hour before I even realize that I didn’t handcuff her again. Fuck, she’s messing with my head.

  I don’t want to kill her. And I don’t want to let Savage do it, either. Enough innocent people have been hurt already and I won’t add to it.

  It’s beyond reason, but I want to keep her safe. Not just because I fucked her and I desperately want to do it again. But because she’s innocent in all of this. I thought I would do anything to get Kidd back and bring down the people who are hurting him, but I don’t want to be the kind of monster who would kill an innocent girl.

  Even if I know Kidd will die if I don’t save him. The thought leaves a dark hole in my chest that nothing can ever fill. Guilt eats at me from the inside out.

  I made Kidd a promise and then I left him in hell.

  That still doesn’t leave me with any idea what I’m going to do with her. I still want whatever information the Senator has locked away even if I never get to use it. I just have to know the true extent of this.

  After we get our information, my guys and I could disappear. That’s always been the idea. It doesn’t matter that she knows my name and has seen my face. We’d be long gone before she even has a chance to so much as describe me for a police sketch.

  Of course, that’s assuming the information is there to be had.

  Sophia’s rabid defense of her father borders on the pathological, but what if she’s right?

  I like to think even the most evil of men wouldn’t let this happen to their daughters if they could put a stop to it. Maybe our intel was wrong. Maybe the senator hasn’t given up the information we asked for because there’s nothing to give.

  No, I think sharply. I refuse to believe it. Every lead that we’ve managed to track down: wire transferred payments, approval of government contracts, names on dummy accounts. All of it leads back to the senator. Without him, the trail goes cold. He has to be the one.

  Sophia stirs beside me. I thought she’d fallen asleep, but she’s just been staring out the window into the night, as lost in her own thoughts as I am.

  What am I going to do with her?

  We pass a small road sign welcoming us to Tennessee. I can already feel the anticipation building like a fire in me. I’d placed a call to Frost before we left the motel. He and Savage came up empty with the senator’s office. This storage unit is our last chance.

  “How far do we have to go now?”

  Sophia turns to look at me with bloodshot eyes. She must not have slept at all during the handful of hours that we spent at the motel. Not that I blame her.

  “It’s in Ashland City,” she whispers.

  “And where is that?” I ask impatiently. She’s picked of a hell of a time to decide to shut down. I wondered how long it would take for everything to finally bowl her over. Nobody is strong enough to withstand something like this without breaking, eventually.

  “We’re on US-41, right?” She asks with a heavy sigh. “When you get to Springfield, get on SR-49 south and it’ll take us right through. Do you need me to draw you a map?”

  The kitten has claws. It makes me want to push her a little harder. I’d rather see her angry than defeated. “I can think of a better use for that mouth than making smart ass remarks.”

  She glares over at me. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I cut my gaze over at her before returning my attention to the road. She’s still hunched up against the door like a dog afraid it’s going to be beaten if it makes itself too big of a target. But when she glares at me, there’s the tiniest spark of fire in her eyes. “Don’t remind you of how good it feels to be inside of you.”

  “That was a mistake. It’s never going to happen again.”

  We’ll see about that, a sly little voice whispers through my mind.

  “It’s probably going to be hard to get locked back in the convent after this, now that you know what you’re missing.”

  “Please shut up.”

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky and Daddy dearest will marry you off to a man adventurous enough to fuck you with the lights on.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Anal’s probably off the table, though.”

  Without warning, she launches herself at me. Nobody ever taught her how to throw a punch, but she’s angry enough to make up for it. Her blows would be easy to ward off if we weren’t doing sixty miles-an-hour down an abandoned country road in the middle of the night.

  “Jesus, woman. Are you trying to kill us both?”

  I’m not even sure she’s listening or can hear me over the obscenities she’s shouting that are interspersed with the occasional wordless shriek.

  I manage to keep her at bay with one hand and navigate us to the side of the road without crashing the car. I let her go for a minute or two without trying to subdue her, just warding off the occasional strike that comes too close to my face.

  She does manage to clip me good in the ear. At that point, I’ve had enough.

  “Alright!” I grab both of her hands and force them down into her lap. She struggles for a minute, but subsides once she realizes that she can’t break the hold that I have on her.

  She tries one more time to wrench away and I wait a beat to let her go, just to make sure she gets the message. She only goes free if I allow it. When I finally release her, the force of her own resistance sends her flying back toward the passenger door.

  I throw the car in park so I can take my foot off of the brake and turn completely towards her. I don’t trust her not to lose her fucking mind again.

  Oppressive silence descends in the car that’s broken only by the sound of her harsh breathing.

  “You finished?” I ask, which turns out to be a mistake.

  She lets out a primal scream that’s piercing in both volume and intensity. Her hands slam repeatedly down on the dashboard, over and over again, so hard that I hope she’s not hurting herself.

  This is it, I think. I’ve pushed too hard. She’s officially lost her fucking mind.

  Eventually she collapses against the dashboard, obviously exhausted from the emotional display.

  “Sophia…”

  She turns to look at me with eyes that are wide.
Her face is streaked with tears.

  She stares at me, her gaze wild. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  I’m already regretting not handcuffing her to the seat like last time. “You need to calm down.”

  “Calm. down?” She spits the words out like they taste bad. “Do you have any idea what is happening to me right now? I feel like my head is about to explode.”

  There’s nothing for me to say to her. I’m not the hero or the savior, I’m the man who’s dead set on destroying her life.

  “Are you done trying to hit me or do I need to handcuff you again?”

  She seems to deflate a little in the seat, like the all the wind has been blown out of her sails. “I’m not going to say I’m sorry.”

  And she doesn’t look sorry. The set of her mouth is belligerent, like she’s challenging me to respond to her.

  “It’s almost over.” I pitch my voice low, trying for something that sounds reassuring. “Get me to that storage unit and we’ll be done.”

  “We’ll never be done.” Her voice is emotionless and the gaze she turns on me is dark and unfathomable. “There’s no moving on from this. You ruined me.”

  I don’t like the feelings that are being stirred within me. I don’t like the way she looks at me, like I’m some demon tormentor here to make her suffer. “You’re being dramatic.”

  “I’m never dramatic,” she snaps. “Everyone knows that about me. I’m steady and reliable.”

  “I think almost causing a fatal car crash counts as dramatic.”

  She glares at me. “This is all your fault. My body is covered with bruises, I haven’t slept in almost two days and I can’t remember the last time that I ate something besides a white bread and bologna sandwich.”

  “Let’s get something to eat,” I say, à propos of nothing. “I think I saw a diner a few miles back.”

  Sophia stares at me, her expression suspicious. “Are you serious?”

  I shrug. “We need to eat, right? Unless you’re planning on doing something stupid.”

  Her body relaxes the smallest amount. “I’m not sure that I believe you.”

  I don’t respond to that. Silently, I put the car in gear and turn back around toward the way we came. I remember seeing one of those roadside places with semi-trucks in the parking lot and roadside advertisements for steaks that cost less than a superstore t-shirt.

  “I don’t understand you,” she says, as we pull into the empty lot.

  “Are you going to behave?” I ask. ‘“Or do I need to leave you handcuffed in the car.”

  Her hand automatically moves to rub the opposite wrist as if the weight of the handcuffs is something she can already feel. “I’ll be good.”

  I don’t believe a word of that.

  “C’mon.” I park the car and get out, acting like I’m not waiting for her to follow me. But I keenly listen for the sound of her door opening and the slam as she closes it. Her footfalls are soft, but distinct behind me.

  I’m attuned to the sound of her movements, even as I feign casualness. If she can’t be trusted to make the smart decision, it’s better that I figure it out now. Now, when we’re in the middle of nowhere at a nearly empty truck-stop diner rather than somewhere she could actually get real help.

  I know it’s a risk taking her out in public. Her picture has been splashed over every news station on a near constant loop for the past two days. But the perfectly groomed school-girl in those pictures bears very little resemblance to the dirty, disheveled girl behind me. I’d already traded her clothes for a pair of baggy sweatpants and an oversized shirt. Her long hair is pushed up underneath a baseball cap with the bill pulled low over her face. The inside of the diner is dim enough that none of the few people inside are going to get a good look at her face.

  Briefly, I consider punctuating my earlier threat. Warn her that if anything happens to me, then Savage will be coming straight for her and whatever he does will make me look like a saint. But I abandon the impulse as soon as I have it. She’s going to do whatever she’s going to do. And so am I.

  The bell above the door jingles when I open it. I hold it for her and she takes her sweet time catching up, another little display of temper. I can handle a little brattiness as long as she doesn’t do anything truly stupid.

  She slows down enough that I’m holding the door open for a beat too long, the little brat. I let it slide off my back. I’m not actually trying to be a gentleman, standing in the door like this gives me an opportunity to scope the place out from the best vantage point without being obvious about it.

  The diner is pretty run-of-the-mill for its type. An empty bar made of chipped wood runs the length of the back wall with a dozen or so bar stools pushed up against it. There are a handful of metal tables covered in red and white checkered plastic. One table is taken up by a young woman with her toddler in a highchair next to her. A bored waitress stands behind the register and I can see a burly, balding man through the little window opening of the grill.

  I can definitely handle it if Sophia decides to get out of hand.

  She finally passes under the arm I have up holding the door, her expression sour. I take her shoulder and propel her towards one of the tables in the corner and nearest the door to the kitchen. It isn’t even a conscious decision to pick the table with the best access to multiple exit routes. At this point that sort of the thing is just an instinct. I direct Sophia to the seat nearest the window and then take the one next to her.

  Her hands are gripped in her lap hard enough that her knuckles have turned white. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Eat anyway.”

  I reach past her to grab the plastic menus that are tucked in between the metal napkin dispenser and a bottle of ketchup. She flinches away from me. I don’t like that much, but leave it alone. I can’t really blame her for being skittish after everything that’s happened.

  The waitress starts to come around the counter and is heading toward us.

  “Be good,” I murmur to Sophia. “Don’t make me lock you in the trunk.”

  “What can I get you?” the waitress asks before she’s even gotten all the way to the table, her voice bored.

  I smile wide, going for the charm that almost always works on middle-aged women. I want her attention on me, not Sophia. “I’ll have the eggs benedict with a large coffee.”

  The waitress automatically smiles back. She glances at Sophia. “What about you?”

  Sophia hasn’t even bothered to open her menu, just staring down at the hands still clenched in her lap.

  The waitress’s smile falters, and she blinks a couple of times, an expression of suspicion moving across her features. I know what she’s thinking, that Sophia is acting like some battered housewife or something else equally suspicious.

  I quickly cut in. “She’ll have a waffle and orange juice. Thanks.”

  The waitress eyes us for another moment, but eventually nods and turns away. I blow out a slight breath that I didn’t realize that I was holding.

  “I think we have different ideas about what it means to be good,” I murmur to Sophia once the waitress is out of earshot.

  She shifts away from me. “I hate waffles.”

  “Bullshit. Nobody hates waffles.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, I do.”

  “Fine, you can have my eggs.”

  She shifts in the seat to look at me, her dark eyes piercing. “Why are you doing this?”

  I pick up the butter knife and balance it between two fingers. “What are you talking about?”

  “This.” Her gesture encompasses the bored waitress and the woman with the kid who’s just getting up to leave. “What kind of kidnapper brings his victim to a public place? Why aren’t you worried that I’ll scream for help?”

  I shrug, even as I notice the almost manic look on her face. “Why aren’t you screaming for help?”

  “Because I’m just as stupid as you are.” Her gaze moves over the diner, lingering
on the man frying burgers on the grill and the corded phone hanging on the wall behind the register. “I can still do it, you know.

  If she wanted to sound the alarm, she’d be doing it, not just threatening to. Knowing that doesn’t stop the slight increase in my heart rate. “Why haven’t you then, I wonder?”

  She doesn’t answer that. Her fingers pick nervously at the edge of the tablecloth, I wonder if she even notices the movement.

  “Maybe it’s because you don’t want to see me go to prison, even after everything I’ve done to you. Maybe ”

  “Is that what this is?” she asks, voice harsh. “Is this how you prove that you’ve completely fucked my head up? Would that make you feel good if you managed to brainwash me into caring what happens to you? Victimize me in just one more way?”

  I shrug, even as I turn her words over in my head. Does she care about me? “I just wanted to eat.”

  “Or maybe this is really about you.” Sophia stares out the window, her shoulders stiff. “Maybe you just want to put off getting to that storage unit because that’s where this road ends, whether you find what you’re looking for or not.” She turns back to look at me, her gaze penetrating. “Maybe you’re the one who cares about me.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “You want this to end about as much as I do.”

  We stare at each other.

  Before either of us can break the tense silence, our waitress returns with the plates of food and slides them onto the table. Sophia picks up her fork and mechanically begins to eat. I quickly thank the waitress and do the same. The sooner we get out of here the better.

  The energy is back between us, like a rope of dark light connecting us to each other. Or maybe it never left and I’ve just been working hard to ignore it.

  Because it’s not just impossible for me to have her and I might just have to destroy her.

  Chapter 16

  I think we’re being followed.