The first time he needed to sleep, he insisted I drive, and it was going great until I swerved for an old to-go coffee cup and almost sent us spiraling off the road. He hasn’t trusted me behind thewheel since. On the plus side, it woke him up enough to jump straight back in the driver’s seat and keep us moving.
My ass started cramping a little over two hours in, and now I’m almost certain there’s an ass-shaped groove worn into the old leather. The past two days have been no less than pure torture.
Stone refuses to stop at any gas stations, not wanting to risk being caught on surveillance camera, and from what little snippets of radio we’ve been able to catch, leading law enforcement east seems to have worked—for the time being, at least. As long as we’re able to keep off grid, we should be alright, but with scavenging food and water from the cars we siphon gas from, I don’t know how long we can sustain this. Sooner or later, we’re going to have to head back toward civilization.
Kicking my feet up just outside the open window, I recline my seat and allow my eyelids to grow heavy. Sleep has been hard to come by, and the little that I have managed to get hasn’t been great. Though from what I understand from Stone, this isn’t his first rodeo. Mine either. Apparently, being wanted by law enforcement is somewhat of a cherished pastime and leaves me wondering what kind of mess I’d gotten myself into during my old life. This whole driving across the state at all hours of the day without a break thing is a comfort to him now. It’s just as familiar as the four walls of the cell he spent the last seven years in.
I relax with my eyes closed, feeling the subtle bumps of the uneven road beneath the car as my mind takes me anywhere but here.
These past few days have been pure insanity, and despite my fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, causing me to attempt to escape from that laundry room door, there’s a part of me that’s oddly enjoying this.
Being on the run with Stone has been the wildest fun I’ve ever had. At least in this lifetime, and I’m finding that I don’t want it to end. The idea of the cops closing in on us is starting to terrify me. Sure, he probably belongs behind bars. I’ve seen the way he slaughters men like cattle without even the hint of regret, but at the same time, there’s something so profoundly . . .goodabout him. Nobody has ever wanted to protect me the way he does so naturally. He doesn’t even need to think about it. It’s in his bones, woven into his DNA, and for whatever reason I can’t understand, I don’t want to let that go.
I haven’t changed my assessment of him. He’s still the most terrifying man I’ve ever come across on this big, green earth, yet I can’t help but want to know him. He’s a closed book, and learning anything about him has been like trying to search for a needle in a haystack. But I want to know it all. Ineedto know it.
There’s intense tension between us. I’ve never felt anything like it, but for whatever reason, I can’t help but need him. It’s as though my body has been starved for his touch for all these years, and the moment he’s close to me, that yearning and desire intensifies.
I need to touch him. Need to know how it feels to have his hands dancing across my skin, grabbing hold of my ass, and hauling me into his arms. I need to feel his lips on mine, on my neck, my chest, between my thighs. I need to be consumed by him.
My head lolls against the hard leather, and as a strange burning sets in around my wrists, I peel my eyes open into darkness. My heart immediately races, fear trickling in as a chill seeps into my bones.
What is this?
I peer through the darkness, trying to figure out where the hell I am, when I take in cold concrete walls and a boarded-up window high on the wall. There’s a set of rickety wooden stairsleading up to a closed door and a worn washer and dryer shoved against the concrete.
Am I in a basement? Where has Stone brought me? Is this it? Has he drugged me? Brought me here to end my life just as he promised?
I try to sit up, but something pulls at my burning wrists, and my gaze snaps down, realizing I’m on a thin, dirty mattress on the ground, my hands bound by rope behind my back. There are blood stains on the mattress as though I’m not the first girl who’s been bound here.
What the hell is going on?
Panic pulses through me, my chest heaving with deep breaths, and tears fill my eyes. “Stone?” I call out, but nothing comes. Where is he? Why am I here? “STONE?”
My head throbs as though I’ve been hit and knocked out, and just as I try to pull myself up to my knees, the door at the top of the stairs opens.
The slow creak is heavy in the silence, sending a wave of unease pulsing through me. A beam of light shines down into the basement, illuminating a man’s silhouette. There’s no denying how big he is. Not Stone big, but still big. He must be at least six-four, tall enough to have to bend through the doorway.
He reaches up and pulls a string, flooding the basement with a dull, yellow light. The single bulb in the ceiling flickers as the shadows covering the man disappear, and a familiar set of eyes stares back at me. For just a moment, I foolishly believe I’ve been saved. But this man staring at me, he no longer holds the eyes of the boy I’ve grown up with and loved all my life . . . These eyes, they’re different now.
Ash Blackthorne. Stone’s younger brother.
The man behind those familiar eyes was kind. He cared for me my whole life, held my hand, and kept me safe. But not anymore. This man before me . . . he’s wretched. Vile. Sick. He wantssomething I’m not willing to give, something that’s not meant for him.
Ash gets to the bottom of the stairs, and I shake my head. “No. Don’t do this,” I beg. My gaze darts back to the top of the stairs, where more men are filing in like fucked-up little toy soldiers. Each of them looks at me as though I owe them something, and they’ve come to collect.
As they march down the stairs, Ash reaches the edge of the dirty mattress, and I shakily get to my feet, my bound hands making it difficult. “He’ll kill you for this,” I tell him. He and I both know exactly how far Stone would go to protect me, to keep me safe, and if anything were to happen . . . shit.
How could he even risk it? How could he dare lay a hand on me, knowing what will come of this? Does he foolishly believe that Stone will spare him because they’re brothers? Because not even that kind of bond could save him now. “You’re a dead man walking.”
Ash laughs and smirks at me like I’m just a toy for him to mess with. “So what? He’s gonna kill me anyway. I might as well enjoy what’s always been mine first.”
I shake my head, backing up as the other men reach the bottom of the stairs, fanning out to surround me like vultures. Ash chuckles—a pitying sound that makes me feel worthless. “Menace? Not so fucking menacing anymore, are ya, Riley?”
“Don’t,” I beg with a strained whisper, tears streaking down my face. “Please, don’t. It’s not too late. We can still go back.”
He laughs at me, the coldness in his tone telling me that this is no longer the boy I grew up with, no longer the brother I’ve always trusted. He’s a stranger now, just a man wearing the face of someone I thought I loved. “There’s no going back.”
The betrayal cuts like a knife. He’s been my brother for the better part of thirteen years. He’s had my back, kept me safe, given me a life worth fighting for, and while I know these pastfew years have been strained after he fell in with these guys, I didn’t think he could fall this far.
