“I’d rather not.”
He clenches his jaw. “Jamie, get in the goddamn truck.”
Fear has me darting a panicked glance up and down Main Street. “Is David coming? Are we in danger?”
“No,” he grinds out.
Thank God.
I slap a hand to my heart. “Malice, you scared the life out of me. Thank you for offering to drive me home, but I’m going to walk.”
We both know Malice made a demand.
I continue on my way, which happens to be in the opposite direction from the one his truck is pointed. The insane man throws his Ford in reverse and rips it backward. I swear to God, all of Main Street must hear the rev of his engine.
“Are you deliberately fucking with me?”
I stop and let out a dramatic sigh because he’s hilariously frustrated. I saunter over to the window and lean in so anyone passing isn’t privy to our conversation.
“No, Malice, I’m not fucking with you, deliberately or otherwise. You need to understand that Wraith wasn’t David’s only prisoner. My husband may not have caged or tortured me, but I lived under constant surveillance. Fear kept me compliant. But I’m free now. So, no, I’m not getting in your truck. I’m going to walk to Wraith’s house because I can. Because for the first time in two years, I’m safe. And I promise you that if it rains, I’ll be fine. It’s only water. I won’t melt.”
Do I see a smile tugging at his lips? Can’t be. No, wait, I think it is. And his face didn’t shatter. It’s an honest to God miracle. “You’re one hell of a brazen bitch.”
I cock a brow at him. “I thought we’ve established this already.”
His smile stretches wider. “Yeah, we have.”
Malice closes the window. Five Finger Death Punch blasts from the radio as he speeds off down Main Street.
I’m not sure, but I think we just became friends.
And drenched isn’t even the word by the time I get to Wraith’s house. The sky opened, and the rains came at about the same time I reached Willow Avenue. And I still had a lot more walking ahead of me.
Yep, I got soaked—and it’s fantastic.
Malice, the sarcastic sonofabitch, drove by again. This time, instead of stopping, he flipped me the bird. I shot him one right back.
I pass Wraith’s Raptor and Jester’s yellow Wrangler as I hurry up to the house. The door swings open, and there’s Jester laughing at my bedraggled appearance.
“Ava said you insisted on walking, but damn, girl.”
I shrug. “It’s just rain.”
He swipes my sopping hair off my face. “You look like a drowned mouse.”
“Gee, thanks, Jester.” I stride past him and step inside.
“Maybe if you wore less brown, you wouldn’t resemble a wet rodent.”
I throw up my hands in defeat. “I’m done.”
I’m also freezing, even with the heat on. Here in the mountains, it gets cold early in the season, and the blast of warm air is incredible after getting pelted by the rain.
One side of Jester’s mouth goes up in a devilish grin, and a mischievous spark lights his amber eyes. “You need help peeling off those clothes, sweetheart?”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“Fuck yeah, you are.” He slides his palms down my arms. Gooseflesh rises in the wake of his touch. “Shame, because I’m an expert at helping ladies out of their unmentionables.” His gaze moves to my breasts. Then lower still, to the juncture of my legs, where it lingers. “I’d offer to dry you off, too, but I’m better at keeping you wet.”
