Her heart thundered so hard against her chest, she wouldn’t be surprised if lightning shot out of her butt. Or at least a warning flare. Something dramatic enough to match the way Connor filled every inch of space he entered.
The man who’d rescued her practically foamed at the mouth whenever he looked at her. She didn’t dare let him catch her doing anything else he thought was wrong. Not when she already felt like one giant walking mistake.
But scrunching down on the floor like this made her muscles cramp, shooting streaks of pain down her right thigh. When was the last time she’d had anything to drink? Nothing came to mind. Maybe all those Daddies in the books talking about water were on to something with the hydration thing. Who knew survival had footnotes?
A second cramp ripped through her thigh so hard she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. Her resolve to follow Connor’s unreasonable demands flew right out the windowabove her head. Right along with her pride and whatever shreds of dignity she still possessed.
She shot to her feet, leaning over and gripping the back of the seat. Sliding her feet back, she did her best to stretch out the knotted muscles, but nothing worked. There wasn’t enough room in the cab of the truck for her to get a good stretch. She should just sit still. Connor would be back soon, with his commanding voice and those eyes that saw far too much.
The muscles in her leg knotted up and shuddered with each stab of pain. Tears stung her eyes, and she gave up trying to hold them back. How stupid was it, after everything she’d been through the past week, to cry over a muscle cramp? But… owie! She’d survived kidnappers and crime bosses, only to be taken down now by a hamstring. Wonderful.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. If she stood up straight for a second, she could stretch out and be done with it. No one could expect her to suffer like this. It was against the Geneva Convention. It was against something, anyway. No suffering allowed. Especially not the self-inflicted, Connor-will-murder-me variety.
Besides, Connor would never even know. She would be out and back within seconds. She could do this. Could she do this? She had to! She’d done what she had to do her whole life. What was one more insignificant rebellion?
Scanning the parking lot, she saw no one. Ready, set, go. Creaking open the door, she slipped out, turning to place her hands on the seat. She lowered her forehead to the seat and pushed her butt in the air, stretching her hamstrings. Once her muscles loosened, she spent time on her quads.
Bliss scanned the parking lot again. Still vacant, as long as she didn’t count the dog foraging in the dumpster and two squirrels scuffling next to the drain across the lot. There was no one behind the hotel except her. She was perfectly safe. Thenagain, danger had a way of creeping up on her the second she convinced herself it wouldn’t.
If there was anyone she needed to worry about, it was the infuriating man who’d brought her here in the first place. Connor had threatened to spank her!Humph.Like she was afraid of a little spanking.
Still, she kept her eyes glued to the corner of the building where Connor had disappeared. The last thing she needed was him rounding the corner and catching her outside the truck. Superstar trackers like him probably never got leg cramps. Traitorously, her body responded to the image of his palm on her bottom. Her pulse beat at Mach 99. Gah!
As a matter of fact, he didn’t seem thrown by anything that had happened the whole day, except maybe losing his precious gun safe. Like she would know that was a big deal. He might rescue people all the time, but this was her first time being sold to an angry Russian crime boss. So sue her if she made a few mistakes.
Better yet, maybe she would sue him. Preferably in a court that allowed emotional damages for humiliation and unwanted attraction.
Sheesh! What did he expect? Not everyone was cut out to be a hero. Take her, for instance. She was no one’s hero. She was the girl people traded. The girl people hid. The girl people chased. The girl who ran.
Not that running would help. It wouldn’t matter at all. She could have told him that if he had listened. There was no hiding from the men after her. She’d been around men like them her whole life. Predators always circled back.
The more she thought about it, the more out of sorts she got. She needed to move and work out some of this energy before she exploded. Connor hadn’t been gone that long, so she had time to walk up and down beside the truck.
Probably.
And what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Hopefully.
Her imagination shot electric sparks zinging down her spine to land between her thighs as she remembered his firm thighs and his large hands gripping the wheel. How would it feel to be over those thighs while his hands delivered a well-deserved spanking?
The shiver that crawled up her spine had nothing to do with fear. Her pussy pulsed at the thought. She tightened her thighs, as if that would give her any relief. She wouldn’t go any further than the length of the truck. What harm could that do? It would take time for those terrible thugs in their expensive suits to find her. But they would.
The Society’s tenacity made them unstoppable. The compound nursery she’d been put in charge of the day she turned sixteen never lacked the fruit of their unquenchable desire. Put them in a compound filled with women who didn’t have the right to say no, and, yeah, there were plenty of babies to care for. Plenty of cries in the night. Plenty of pudgy fingers wrapping around hers while she pretended loving them wouldn’t break her.
When she reached the end of the truck, she turned and walked back to the door. That wasn’t anywhere near enough. She needed to make a few more laps. If the men who’d snatched her away from everything and everyone she knew and loved once before, they’d find her and take her again. It was only a matter of time. Not an if, but a when.
And what was all this about going back to Tennessee? Connor and Reid, Winnie’s Daddy, might mean well, but the last thing Winnie needed was for Bliss to return to Darling with hell two steps behind her. Darling wouldn’t be good for Bliss, either.No way could she keep up the act of hating her sister if she went back there.
Not to mention ignoring Connor while sitting in the seat right next to him. She’d stared out the window as much as she could, pretending to ignore him. But the claws of his angry glares scratched between her shoulder blades. In short, the drive had been torture, and it had lasted only forty-five minutes. She wouldn’t survive another two whole days. The man was sex on a stick.
She’d lived in Darling for months. She knew who Connor Davis was. It wasn’t unusual to see him at Books-N-Brews, the local coffee hangout. After figuring out his schedule, she made a point of handing out tracts wherever he would be.
They’d even spoken a time or two. He’d offered to help her get away from the Society. She’d have given anything to say yes. But there were things he didn’t know, even now. Secrets sharp enough to cut them both if he got too close.
But the attraction had been there. She wasn’t that experienced, but he seemed to like her, too. It felt nice when he smiled at her. Not like those creepy Russian men. They were gross. She’d have loved to have time to get to know Connor better, but it had never worked out. Every time she reached for something good, the world reminded her she wasn’t meant to keep it.
She kept pacing, adding speed. At this rate, she’d never calm down.
