“Warming up?” My voice is gruff, like it scraped over rocks on the way out.
“Yes.” She licks her lips, and Ido nottrace that movement. “Where are we?”
“Outskirts of Midland. I’m going to check the rest of you now. Tell me what hurts.” I try to make my movements slow, though every minute we sit here makes us more of a target. Skimming my hands over her arms, I see bruises beginning to form where one man grabbed her. There’s a scrape on one elbow and a small cut near her shoulder.
“My feet hurt.”
I switch directions and lift one delicate foot, then the other. Her nails are painted pink, and there’s a little white flower on each of her big toes. It’s cute. Which is a weird-ass thing to think right now. Her feet are bruised, and there are several small cuts. She must have been running without shoes for a while. “These look shallow. I don’t think you need the hospital, unless you want to go.”
“No!” The word is sharp in the space between us. She flushes. “I mean, no. Please. They will look there.”
“Your family or the people who took you?”
She hunches in on herself. “Both.”
What would make her so afraid of going back to her family? I lay my hand over hers, hoping to show her she’s safe with me.
“Then we go somewhere else.”
“Where?” she asks quietly.
She looks so fragile; it’s killing me. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her close. Instead, I reply, “A place no one will look for you.” I’m about to go back to the driver’s side, but there’s one more thing... “You can trust me, Camille. Doesn’t matter who’s paying the bills. Your safety is my only concern.”
“My dad will want me back.” She searches my face, waiting for my response. Testing my words.
Even if I wasn’t drawn to her like I am, this promise would be easy. “Until this threat is resolved, you stay with me.”
Camille relaxes a fraction of an inch and nods. “Thank you, Bronco King.”
Jesus. Hearing my name on those sweet lips sends a bolt of heat through me.
That’s a line you don’t cross, King. Not now. Not ever.
I tuck the blankets back around her, then hustle back behind the wheel and get back on the road. Valor Springs is a few hours away. Time to put distance between her and whoever is threatening her.
She’s silent the entire trip, sitting with her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap. She looks regal, like the oil princess I originally pegged her for.
I’ve protected dozens of women through dangerous scenarios over the years. Many fall apart. Some rage or pepper me with a hundred questions, challenging every decision I make. I’ve never safeguarded a woman who held herself this tightly, like if she let it out, she’d shatter.
I don’t engage her or ask questions. Not yet. My priorities are to get her back to my house, get her cleaned up, and bandage her wounds. After that, we’ll talk.
I’m considering what to tell Gray when the gas light comes on. We could probably make it to my place, but this gives me an opportunity to make sure we weren’t followed.
I take the next exit and pass the gas station, then circle back. No cars follow. We’re good to stop for a few minutes. I park next to a pump and scan her. There’s color in her cheeks, and she’s kicked off one of the blankets. “We’ll only be a few minutes here. Do you need the bathroom?”
Her nose wrinkles when she looks past me to the gas station. “No.”
Probably for the best. I don’t want her walking barefoot in there. “Hold tight. I’ll fill up and we’ll be on our way. It’s not much farther.”
She nods.
Outside, I get the gas pump started, then step away to call Gray. He answers on the second ring.
“You find her?”
“Yeah, and we’ve got a problem.” I explain how I found her, including the thugs and the damn wedding dress, and how she went white when I said I’d take her home.
Silence stretches on the other end.
