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Her gaze darts to it with more mistrust than before, but she must realize she can’t outrun me when I’m this close and she doesn’t have a head start. If she runs again, I’ll just tackle her little ass again, and as much as I enjoyed it last time… she probably shouldn’t tempt me to indulge my darker impulses.
I was only playing at being a hero tonight; I’m not one.
She swallows, then reluctantly takes my hand.
I pull her to her feet, then let go so she can brush off her robe, then pull it back on. She brushes tears from her cheeks hastily with her face turned away, as if hoping I won’t notice.
“What the fuck was that?” I demand.
She shoots me a wounded sort of glare that tells me she doesn’t even want to talk to me, but she does anyway. “If you aren’t one of them, how did you know I’d be in that basement?”
That…
That’s a fair question.
I push out a breath and check our surroundings since I got so caught up in chasing her pretty little ass, I forgot to give a fuck about the shitheads chasing after us with a gun. “It’s a long story. I’m not one of them, all right? I know you have no reason to trust me, but I need you to do it anyway so I can get us the fuck out of here.”
“And what happens to me if you’re lying?”
I know she’s just trying to make me see her side of things here, but I don’t need her to. I can see it. It just doesn’t matter. I know my intentions, and I don’t have time to reassure her until she believes them, too.
So, I’m a little meaner than I probably need to be when I look her directly in the eyes and say, “Nothing worse than what’s gonna happen if you run from me again and I catch you.”
Her eyes widen.
I don’t wait for a response.
I turn and head back the way we just came, and a second later, I hear her reluctantly following after me.
I still have enough of a hard-on that it pisses me off. I don’t know what the fuck happened back there. I’ve never lost control like that before. I’m smarter than that.
That’s how fucking idiots operate, acting first and thinking later.
I’m no better than fucking Kyle, probably back at his clubhouse with his idiot friends sulking while the girl who could put their asses behind bars runs free.
The disdain I feel for those fuckers neutralizes the arousal pretty quickly.
By the time we make it back to the mouth of the forest, Shane’s here. His black BMW slows to a stop. I open the back door and grab the girl’s arm, making her get in.
She slides across the seat without objection and drops her shoes on the floor. I can tell she’s guarded and probably still doesn’t trust me, but even if I do intend to hurt her, she’s aware of her chances of escape—and her chances are even slimmer now that I have a friend with me.
Shane is behind the wheel, but he has a ski mask pulled over his face as I instructed. Realizing both of the men currently in possession of her still have their faces covered, she crosses her arms protectively and sits as close to the door as she can.
I don’t think she’s foolish enough to open it and try running again, but I get the sense that she wants to.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I warn her.
“Too late,” she mutters.
“Take us back to my car,” I tell Shane.
The car needs to start moving before the girl gives in to her reckless impulses.
He locks the doors first, his gaze flickering to the girl in his rearview mirror, then over to me. He’s picking up on her hostage vibes as well, and since I sold this as a rescue mission, he’s probably a little thrown.
He pulls away anyway, though.
Even if I were kidnapping this girl, he’d pull away.
