Page 21 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
What would be the consequence for that act of cowardice? I don’t want to know.
Scar opens the back door for me, not even gesturing for me to get inside. It’s a fait accompli. No one disobeys his boss, and he knows it.
I duck my head and slide inside the most luxurious vehicle I’ve ever seen. The plush tan leather seat hugs my body as he shuts the door.
This is it. My mouth goes dry at the realization.
I’m nothing more than the trade Mount demanded being delivered. I’m not even worth a single word from my driver as he folds himself into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.
Based on the thundering beat in my chest, I’m certain I’m going to die of a heart attack before the car moves an inch. I swallow, but my dry mouth makes it nearly impossible.
I look down to the cupholder discreetly tucked into the interior. In it is a bottle of Bling H2O. I’ve never seen one in person, but I remember reading an article online about how an enterprising entrepreneur turned Tennessee spring water into a $40 per bottle product by putting it in a frosted bottle with Swarovski crystals.
Bling seems to be the theme of the night, like the water was picked to match the shoes and lingerie. Or maybe Mount is just that rich that he doesn’t care about throwing money away on ridiculous extravagances.
Leery of what may be in the water, I skip the bottle and notice Scar holding something out to me from between the seats.
A black cloth hood. It looks like something put on a terrorist before the CIA drags him off to be waterboarded.
Jesus. Effing. Christ.
If I thought a heart attack was imminent before, the likelihood just increased a dozen times over.
Scar holds it out and says nothing.
Do I rebel or do I comply? That’s the question I’ll likely be asking myself all night.
I answer the question quickly in my head. I’m going to save my rebellion for the man who deserves it. That is, if I can summon the courage when the time comes.
“Fine,” I snap, and yank the hood out of his hand and pull it over my head.
It’s not like I spent an hour doing my hair. I refused to give Mount that much consideration. My red mane was wild from me running my fingers through it all day as I freaked out about the night to come, and now it’ll be even more of a mess.
I tell myself I don’t care.
Once my vision descends into blackness, Scar starts the engine and silently maneuvers the car onto the street. I listen to the outside noises, all my other senses heightened as I try to figure out where he’s taking me.
Traffic seems to get heavier as horns blare, and I can hear music in the distance.
The French Quarter? Is he taking me to the bar Magnolia told me about? The one with the code word? I have no way of knowing unless I yank this hood off, and I have a feeling that won’t end well for me.
Twenty minutes later, there’s a scraping noise and the car turns before slowly moving forward again.
A garage? A warehouse? I have no idea.
Scar kills the engine, and his door opens. A moment later, a brush of cool breeze hits my legs and I tighten the belt on my trench coat.
When a hand lands on my arm, I practically jump out of my plush leather seat. “Give a girl warning next time, okay? Do you want me to die of a heart attack before we get to wherever the hell we’re going?”
He doesn’t answer, just helps me out of the car while I remain blind. I expect him to pull me behind him slowly so I don’t trip, but instead he lifts me into his arms like a groom on a wedding night.
The thought twists in my stomach as I remember Brett carrying me over the threshold of my townhouse after we eloped.
That lying, cheating piece of shit.
Rage roars into my v
eins again, stiffening my spine with the steel I’ll need to face the scariest man in New Orleans.
