Me fucking too.
But I’ve got no time to talk. “Someone’s here,” I mutter, then sidestep around him, following the dog.
Briefly, my mind jumps back in time to the other night when Hudson chased a ball into the maze. Holy shit. He knows the maze perfectly. Knows the dead ends and the pass-throughs. He barks at me urgently.
I follow him, racing around one coil, avoiding paths that go nowhere as the sound of a struggle grows louder.
52
TWIN TRICKS
RIPLEY
The douchebag locks his arm around my neck, my back to his chest as he breathes on me. He smells like patchouli and sandalwood, like he did that night at the hotel bar.
Then, he was just a jerk, not taking no for an answer. Now, he’s a threat.
My pulse is surging, and my brain is racing quickly through escape plans, the ones my grandma taught us. But first…his arm. He’s not cutting off my airway, but he’s coming far too close.
Before I can knock him down or kick him in the balls, I need to turn my head so he doesn’t cut off my air.
“I’ll make this real easy for you two,” he hisses as he sneers at my sister, and in the distance, I hear the scrabble of paws against grass, then footsteps, moving fast.
I don’t know how close they are, and Haven’s eyes are wide, etched with terror—and fury too. “Let her go, you jackass,” she bites out.
“I will. If you do something for me.” As he tries to negotiate whatever the hell he’s doing, I’m focused on one thing—getting enough oxygen that I don’t pass out. Carefully, I turn into his body to relieve the pressure on my airway. “How about you call Chris over here right now?” he says. “So I can get something this time. Now I want my fucking picture.”
Jesus. This guy is desperate.
“No,” I spit out.
“I’d be happy to hurt your sister so you can help me,” he offers to Haven in a faux sweet voice.
Fear charges through me, but so does rage, and I lift a foot to kick him in the shins, but I only clip the edge of his leg.
He dodges the blow, feinting a bit to the side but still keeping that arm around my neck.
“Let her go,” Haven demands as she reaches her hand into her front pocket.Please let that be her mace.
As I work out a better angle to kick the guy, I hear Hudson barking somewhere nearby. I don’t know what my dog will do if he reaches us. He’s a tracker and a lover, but he’s not a fighter.
I don’t let it distract me. I have to focus on fighting.
“One picture, then I’ll let you go,” he says. “Because guess what? I’m not missing the chance this time.”
This guy is pissed because he didn’tget somethingfrom me that night? So now he’s determined to get what he thinks he deserves?
Fuck him.
Haven jerks her arm out of her pocket right as I lift my rightfoot and put everything I’ve got into a kick aimed straight at his crotch. Hudson’s barks grow louder. As I connect, Banks flies around the corner of the hedge past the dog, lunging for the guy while I kick the bastard in the balls.
Banks grabs the guy’s arm right as he tries to reach for his bruised crotch with it. “Fuck, that hurt,” the guy whines.
“Good,” Banks seethes, then rips him the rest of the way off me. In no time, Banks slams him to the grass, jerks both arms behind him, and pins his wrists.
Oh.
Ohhh.
