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The valet pulls up and gets out of the Ferrari with a beaming smile on his face that could light up the dark desert. He whistles. “Damn, that’s a nice car, dude.”
Raze smiles, taking the keys from the young guy, and I come around to the passenger seat. “Thanks,” he says before he slips in.
Pulling out to the busy streets, we make our way onto the main highway on our way back to Raze’s mansion.
Then he takes an unusual turn. “Where are we going?” I ask. He removes his mask, his hair fluffing up from him taking it off, then he pops his collar. “Raze?” Maybe this was all a front, luring me in, having me drop whatever barrier I had before he kills me. I had only just begun to care whether I lived or not. I wasn’t too hot on dying anymore. “Raze!” I snap at him. His fingers grip around the steering wheel. “Raze, let me out.”
I can see the shadows on his face, the changing of his demeanor. His features darken as his jaw tenses. He pulls down a gravel private driveway and slides to the side of the road. I look around, not recognizing the area.
He pulls up the emergency break and finally looks at me. “Come on.”
“What?” I scoff. “No fricking way am I coming with you! You could have at least given me my last meal of nuggets before offing me in the middle of nowhere.”
“What?” he huffs, his face changing into confusion. “Wait, you think I’ve brought you here to kill you?”
“Well, jeez, I don’t know. Usually when an executioner brings you down a cold dead street, one begins thinking that she’s about to meet the reaper, so, yes.”
He huffs again, pulling at his hair in frustration and surprise. “Millie, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead. I thought you trusted me.”
“Well, maybe I don’t when you go all… dark on me.”
“Dark?” He repositions his body to face me. “I don’t ‘turn dark’, Millie. I am dark. I just turn light for you, and only you. Don’t ever mistake that.”
“So you’re not going to kill me, then?” I whisper, my fingers twiddling together in my lap.
“No, Millie. I won’t. I told you months ago that I wasn’t going to.”
“Well, then,” I say, looking out in front of the car to the blank, dark farmland. “Where the hell are we?”
He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Nudging his head, he pushes open the door. “Come on.”
I get out of the car, the cold prickles of wind gushing over me. “Where are we?”
He locks the car and walks to the front, taking my hand in his. “You’ll see.” My hand finds his as he leads me towards the little fence that lines the farm property. Scooping his arm behind my knee, he picks me up and cradles my body near his chest. My head relaxes into his chest, the familiar scent of woodsy masculinity taking over my senses. Once he’s inside the fence, he presses his lips to my forehead. “You wanna walk or do you want me to carry you? You know, your heels and all that can’t be easy to walk in.”
I tap his hand. “I’ll be fine. Put me down. I can walk.” He doesn’t respond. “Raze?” He places me down to my feet and the heels of my shoes instantly sink into the firm grass. “Shit.”
Raze chuckles, turning his back to me. “Get on.”
“What? On your back?”
“Yes, pet, on my back. We don’t have all day. Get the fuck on.”
And just when I thought he was being all sweet.
“Alright, alright, bossy.” Hitching up my tight dress, I roll it up to sit just under my butt cheeks before gripping onto his massive shoulder blades and leaping onto his back. My ankles hook together around the front of him as my arms cuddle his neck.
I squeal out a high-pitched laugh and Raze shakes his head with a chuckle. “You could not be more of a girl right now.”
“I’m twenty-one, Raze. I’m still in the adult transition. Which reminds me,” I say as he steps forward effortlessly, like he wasn’t carrying one hundred and thirty-two pounds on his back. “How old are you?”
“Really, pet? You gonna ask me now after we’ve spent how many nights together?” He hikes me up and my crotch grazes against his muscled back.
Biting my bottom lip, I nod. “Yes, because every time we’re together, I forget to ask you.”
“I’m twenty-eight.”
He continues to walk and I drop my face down to the back of his ear. Pressing my lips onto it, I smile. “Seven-year difference, huh? That’s a little pervy?”
