Page 18 of Craving Sin

“As you pointed out earlier, I’m also your doctor. Let go of my hand…please.”

He watches me, his emerald gaze intense and penetrating. My pulse stumbles, this strange flipping happening in my gut that has to be…fear? Hell, I don’t know. It’s hard to understand, but anything would be in this moment.

“The water fountain is right there.” I point to one that’s only about fifty feet away from us.

“Don’t run, Doc. You won’t get far.”

He lets me go, the lingering feeling of his warm palm still ringing my wrist.

That’s…weird, right? It’s all I can think as I walk to the water fountain. That I can still feel where he touched me…and that I don’t even try to run.

CHAPTER SIX

Rian

I have no idea what in the hell I’m doing.

Everything I’ve done since the moment I first saw the doc has been one mistake after another. Mistakes aren’t me. I run a clean operation—as clean as I can, at least. I don’t screw up, I don’t go off plan, and I definitely don’t kidnap the son of the fucking governor because he made my neck tingle.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” the doc asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” We’re driving again, heading to a house in New Hampshire, one that I absolutely shouldn’t have chosen for us to go to, but then, nothing I’ve done in the last twenty-four hours makes any sense.

“First, because you’ve been shot. Secondly, you made a noise.”

“Nothing.” I turn away, giving my attention back to the road. He’s not what I expected, though I don’t know what I expected or why. Sure, he’s a doctor, but I also shot someone in front of him, stalked him, and kidnapped him. Worrying about me should be the last thing on his mind, but he’d taken care of me back at the rest station, and he’s clearly concerned about me now.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“To a safe place.”

“Oh, well, that tells me a lot.”

I shake my head. He’s got fire to him. That much is true.

“What are you going to do with me?” he asks next.

There’s only one thing I can do with him, really. I signed his death into law the second I shot someone in front of him and kidnapped him.

“I won’t go easily,” he says, not needing me to answer.

“I would expect nothing less, but if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to kill you sooner rather than later.” My head is fucking killing me. It’s more annoying than the throbbing pain in my shoulder.

“What’s your name?”

“If I tell you, will you stop talking?” I rub my temples, gun resting on my lap. I see his gaze dart toward it before meeting the road again.

“Don’t even think about it, Doc.”

“Abbott,” he reminds me.

“Rian,” I say, hoping that will shut him up. It’s not like it will hurt for him to know my name. He has to die regardless. “Now, shut up.”

“Fuck you,” he counters, and damned if I don’t almost smile.

The doc leans forward, hitting the button on the radio just a second before a melody of classical music played by a symphony of instruments fills the space around us, making my whole body stiffen.

There’s a string run, the music getting louder and faster with each note, building the tension higher and making my heartbeat escalate right along with it.