Page 25 of Captive

“What’s going on?” she asked, remaining where she was.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Come with me.” As I approached, she backed away, acting as if she was going to run.

“No!”

I snagged her arm, yanking her against me, the force hard enough it knocked the wind out of her. “Listen to me, Chloe. I don’t have time to fuck around with this. There are two menabout to break in through that door. If they do, there is a good chance I won’t be able to save your life. You must trust me. We are leaving.”

She nodded several times, her eyes opening wide, but she didn’t fight me as I dragged her down the hall and into the garage, shoving her into the backseat of another vehicle. “I don’t…” she muttered then stopped.

“Keep down and I mean it, Chloe. This ain’t gonna be pretty.” I jumped into the driver’s seat, immediately starting the engine, pulling one of the weapons into my hand. I checked all the gauges then opened the door, pressing down on the accelerator. As I roared off, my gut told me that the bastards were within yards of the house.

Fuck.

As I screeched down the driveway, the first shot was taken, the slight ping pissing me off.

Chloe yelped from the back but remained hugging the seat. I swept my eyes from the rearview mirror to both side mirrors, able to see a slight shadow as the second asshole took a shot. “Hold on,” I commanded, jerking the steering wheel to the right.

I could see a flash of the muzzle shot in the rearview mirror. While I wanted nothing more than to annihilate both of them, I couldn’t risk it with Chloe in the car. I pressed down on the accelerator, shifting from one side street to another. All the training I’d forced myself to go through after moving into the city was paying off.

When I felt comfortable enough that we weren’t being followed, I shifted onto the highway, staying just a few miles over the speed limit. I’d stay on the main road for only a few minutes.Then I’d be forced to stop somewhere in order to figure out where the fuck I was going.

While I’d been prepared for almost any scenario, in my mind I’d gotten soft, allowing the fuckers to enter my world before I’d realized it.

“Are we safe?” Chloe asked a few minutes later. The tone of her voice was surprisingly strong, the hard-headed girl refusing to realize or accept the kind of danger she was in. Only a small portion of the peril had to do with the people chasing us.

“We will be.” I gathered a whiff of her scent, holding the soft fragrance of jasmine in my lungs for several seconds. Vile, filthy thoughts slammed into my brain. I had no business thinking about her in such a carnal manner, but my cock ached just thinking about taking her.

Tasting her.

Fucking her.

I was a bad man, the resurface of my past driving the beast I’d caged before leaving Russia to the surface. When I sensed her presence, felt her long hair draping across my neck, I bristled.

“What the fuck are you doing?” My bark didn’t seem to faze her.

She climbed through the middle of the seats, fighting her way until she managed to flop into the passenger side. “I’m tired of being treated like I’m weak.”

A growl slipped up from my throat. If she’d heard it, she certainly didn’t respond. For the love of God, the girl needed to learn the importance of rules. I could tell the only way she was going to get it was through harsh discipline. That would have to wait until later.

“Chloe. I’m going to say this once. This isn’t playtime. The men hunting us will stop at nothing until they get what they want. And they will hurt you. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I twisted my hand around the steering wheel, taking another hard look into the rearview mirror. Noticing a truck stop at the next exit, I knew with the number of truckers likely resting, the place would be as safe as any. I darted a glance in her direction. She remained unblinking, staring out the windshield.

“I get it. I’m not stupid.” She fastened her seatbelt, taking a deep breath. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No. But you will obey every rule. Period.” I took the exit, scanning the dark and otherwise deserted road as I headed toward the brightly lit truck stop. There were at least four dozen rigs in the massive aging lot, the majority likely parked for the night.

“What are we doing here?” Now her words were completely perfunctory, said without emotion.

“I need to know where I’m going.”

“And where is that?”

“A safe place. You ask too many questions.” As I pulled into a dimly lit area, just enough light to see the address, I felt the heat of her stare.

“Can I at least go to the bathroom?”