Elsie stared for a long time at the door Hatchet had disappeared behind. She’d lost track of just how long it had been as she replayed what had happened between them, but still all she felt at his abrupt departure was confusion with a little bit of hurt mixed in for good measure. They’d been lying there, talking. He’d kissed her. She’d told him her name, and he’d reacted like she’d said she was practically the devil herself.
The way he’d stiffened and pulled away, as if he couldn’t even bear to touch her. It made her feel cold all over and, no matter how much she tugged the blankets up and around her, she still couldn’t rid herself of that chill.
The sudden sound of angry raised voices just outside the door had her clutching the coverings even closer in front of her chest, and she didn’t even have time to figure out what was going on before the door burst open. Elsie couldn’t hold back the shriek that escaped her but, when the rough looking older man smirked at the sound, she forced her chin up, refusing to back down from his snake-like green eyes.
Terror worked its way through her as the big man stalked into the room, looking her over like a man looking over merchandise he’s about to buy, but Elsie shoved it away. She couldn’t afford to let fear seep in right now. She was already vulnerable enough. She just prayed that the man, whoever he was, wouldn’t realize just how vulnerable.
“My, my, my,” the man said, walking farther into the room. Elsie didn’t take her eyes off of him for a second. He oozed bad intention, but she would fight with every bit of strength inside her if she had to. “Aren’t you a pretty little piece? You know, it’s a shame you had to fall in with the likes of Hatchet. Bad luck, really.” He smiled and the sight of it sent icy cold chills racing down Elsie’s spine. “For you. Not me.”
“Mad Dog! Leave her alone!” The familiar voice washed over her like a warm breeze and Elsie spared just a second to flick her eyes to the doorway, where Hatchet and the other man she’d seen the night before – Jackrabbit – stood. Jackrabbit was shifting nervously from one foot to the other and his eyes didn’t land anywhere in particular, as if he wasn’t quite sure where to look. Meanwhile, Hatchet’s dark-eyed gaze never left the older, bald man. Mad Dog, Hatchet had called him. Elsie nodded to herself, examining the man once more. The name fit him. There was something rabid behind those green eyes of his.
“What did you just say to me, you bastard?” Mad Dog turned on Hatchet quicker that Elsie thought possible for a stocky man like him.
Elsie held her breath at the sudden tension that filled the room as the two men stood off.
“I said…” Hatchet took a few steps forward until his body was blocking Elsie from the other man’s view. “…leave her alone. She isn’t your problem.”
“She fucking is, Hatchet. And a problem of mine is a problem for all the Roadburners, don’t you ever forget that,” Mad Dog sneered, anger and rage burning in his eyes. But then, as quick as a flash, he was throwing his bald head back and letting out a belly laugh. “You’ve got balls, Hatchet, I’ll give you that.”
Mad Dog leapt forward then, closing the distance between them and he had Hatchet’s throat held in a vice-like grip, pushing his face close until they were nearly nose to nose. “But don’t forget who you work for. I own you, Hatchet. You never forget that either.” Mad Dog finally let go, and his mood shifted like lightning again.
He smiled as he walked towards Jackrabbit. “Get the girl dressed, Hatchet. Then meet me downstairs. We have plans to discuss.” Mad Dog threw the words casually over his shoulders before leaving.
Hatchet hastened to close and lock the door as soon as Mad Dog left with Jackrabbit.
He stood there like that for a long time, just leaning his forehead against the door and Elsie was afraid to speak. She didn’t even know what the hell to say. There was something fragile about the moment, like, if she were to say the wrong thing, the air around them would just shatter and she’d never be able to put it back together again.
You’re not making sense, girl. Get your mind right! She knew the inner voice urging her on was right, but she still didn’t know what to do. So she sat there in silence, her thoughts swirling around and around, not getting her anywhere. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Hatchet, what… what’s happening?” Elsie hated the tearful sound in her voice, but she couldn’t keep the truth at bay anymore. She was scared. No, she was terrified. But for some reason, she knew in her heart that she could still trust Hatchet. If she doubted him before, the way he stepped between her and that Mad Dog guy had changed her mind. She knew now. He would protect her. She had to believe that. There sure as hell was no one else there who was going to swoop in and rescue her.
Rachael would, but at the moment her best friend was under house arrest. Not to mention the fact that Rae had no idea where Elsie was or who she’d been taken by. Elsie wondered briefly what her father would think but, after their argument the night before, he probably wouldn’t think anything of her disappearance for several more days.
You’re stalling. Why are you stalling? Elsie shushed the voice again, but she knew it was right. She was stalling. Thinking about anything except what she really needed to. Namely, getting the hell out of here.
“Get dressed,” Hatchet said. His sudden words in the heavy silence startled her.
“Please, Hatchet, I just want to go home. I don’t know who that guy was or what his ‘plan’ is, and I don’t want to.” Elsie pleaded with him, staring across the room at him as she spoke, “I won’t make any trouble for you, I promise. Just let me go.”
Hatchet turned towards her slowly, almost mournfully, and there was a look on his face that begged her to understand.
“I’m sorry, Elsie. It’s far too late for that.” He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. It was obvious he wasn’t any happier about the situation than she was. “I can’t let you go.”
***
“Hurry up and get dressed.” Hatchet said gruffly, fighting the conflicting emotions that swirled inside him. He had a job to do. This was just another job. That was it. Then why was it so hard for him to think of her like that? To think of her as anything but the woman who had totally melted in his arms just last night. The woman whose father had ruined his life.
“Turn around,” Elsie said sternly. Hatchet glanced at her, still sitting on the middle of the bed with the blanket pulled up to cover her otherwise naked body.
He could only shake his head at the command in her voice, amused despite himself that this petite woman, still tussled from sleep and other things if he was being honest, would be ordering him around when she was the one who should be terrified.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but that just ain’t gonna happen.” Hatchet tried to keep his voice firm and words terse, but it was nearly impossible. “I can’t have you sneaking away behind my back.”
“I didn’t have to sneak away last night,” Elsie shot back, her brows lowered as she tossed him a displeased glare. “Last night you said I could just leave if I wanted to.”
“Well, last night was…” Hatchet trailed off as the memories of the night before rose up unbidden in his mind, scorching him, still just as potent as they had been just a few hours ago. “Things have changed.” That was the understatement of the century. “Just get dressed, alright?” he bit off, irritated now more by his own wayward thoughts than anything else.
“Fine!” Her angry word hit him, and he didn’t have time to react before she threw the covers back defiantly to reveal all the lush curves of her beautiful naked body. Her very naked body.
He sucked in a breath, instantly regretting his decision not to turn around as the room started to close in around him and his whole world narrowed down to her. His pants tightened painfully in an instant, and it took all the strength in him not to stare as he watched her walk around the room looking for her clothes. She was shameless, a sweet mix of innocent and brazen, and he couldn’t look away.
Elsie glanced over at him suddenly and he swore that he blushed. He actually blushed! It took him a moment to notice the unsure look in her blue eyes.
“Where are my clothes?” she asked, searching the bedroom without any luck, and Hatchet cursed himself and his unwanted reaction to her as he forced his brain out of the gutter and into some semblance of a thinking organism.
“Downstairs,” he replied curtly. But then he started thinking about just how exactly they had ended up strewn across his living room and he swore that damned blush was back.
Hatchet cleared his throat, stomping down on his wayward thoughts once more, trying to get himself back under control. Which was a goddamned epic battle with her standing there, naked and gorgeous and just about the most delicious thing he’d seen in his whole life. She reminded him of the cherry pies that his elderly neighbor used to keep out on the windowsill when he was a kid. Sweet and tart and just begging to be taken.
“Well?” Elsie asked, and he finally realized that she’d been staring at him expectantly. “Are you going to go get them?”
“He shook his head, trying desperately to remember how to form anything more than single syllable words. “Can’t.”
“Well, why the hell not?” she said in a huff, planting her hands on her hips in a way that had all the blood in his body draining south.
“I can’t risk it,” Hatchet bit out, finally able to force a complete sentence. “I can’t risk you making a run for it. Not now.”
He caught the way she looked away, her guilt written across her too expressive face and nearly shook his head. He could see the truth of it in her blue eyes when she finally looked back at him. Every thought, every emotion was bared open and visible. Damn, she really needed to work on her poker face, Hatchet thought to himself, but it was a distant sort of thought. He was still too distracted by her blatant nudity to really focus on anything else. If she didn’t get something covering her soon, he wouldn’t hold himself accountable for anything he did to her sweet body.
It really didn’t help that he could remember just how sweet it really was. How irresistible. How delicious. And how all too tempted he was to just forget all about the two men still waiting for them downstairs and, worst of all, what Mad Dog had planned.
She looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, to disappear completely, or like she would take the first opportunity that presented itself to get away. Though he couldn’t really blame her, it was irritating as hell.
He knew he should hate her. For who she was. For what she was. A McLaurel. He knew the type of person her daddy was, and he knew he shouldn’t trust her, but he just couldn’t make himself.
Feeling like he was hanging over the edge of a precariously long drop, Hatchet stomped over to his closet and blindly pulled out some clothes, thrusting them in Elsie’s general direction. He tried desperately not to look as she walked closer to take them, but his eyes had a mind of their own and drank in the sight of her one last time despite his best intentions.
Hatchet nearly groaned in desperation as she tossed on the pair of shorts that cinched around the waist and one of his t-shirts that hit her about mid-thigh. He thought clothing would help, but now all he could think about was how much fun it would be to take them off again. The sight of her in his shirt had something inside his chest tightening in a way that made him move forward gruffly.
“Give me your hands,” he growled, fighting his own instincts, fighting everything inside himself as she looked at him in confusion.
It didn’t help that his own thoughts were in a complete tangle trying to reconcile the fact that he’d just slept with the daughter of the man he hated worst in the world. And now, all he wanted was to do it all over again. What was worse, every protective instinct was on alert. All for this little blue-eyed, blonde-haired goddess that he had no reason to trust and every reason to turn around and run as far away from as he could in the opposite direction.
“Your hands,” Hatchet said again, gesturing at them. This time, he didn’t wait for her response before capturing both wrists in one of his hands and quickly tying them with a soft leather belt he grabbed from the closet.
“Is this really necessary?” Elsie asked. There was a note of hurt in her softly spoken words that killed something inside him.
He slowed, fingers still tangled with hers as he paused. “I can’t risk you getting away,” he finally said, unable to look her in the eye as he looped the end the belt over one wrist and made another knot in the middle. “I’ve got to do what I got to do.”
“Why? What are you going to do? Where are you going to take me?”
There was a demand in Elsie’s voice that had the tiniest smile hitching up one corner of his mouth. “You sure are bossy. Did anybody ever tell you that?”
“No.” Elsie stared up at him. “But I’ve never had anyone kidnap me before either. So, I guess it’s just a day for new experiences.”
The way she said it sent images of the night before flooding into Hatchet’s mind and it was driving him insane.
For a long moment, they just stood there. The air between them crackled with intensity and neither of them said a single word. Neither even knew what to say as they stood there, hands still entwined together, searching each other’s eyes as time seemed to slow to a standstill.
Like a bucket of ice water thrown on a fire, realization struck Hatchet. He knew exactly what Mad Dog intended. He’d seen it in the man’s bloodshot eyes from the moment he’d first revealed that it was Elsie fucking McLaurel in his bed.
In Mad Dog’s eyes, Elsie was just another thing that they’d taken from Mark McLaurel.
Therefore, she would be sold just like every other thing they stole from Mark McLaurel.
That knowledge sat like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach, along with the near certainty that he couldn’t do shit about it even if he wanted to.
Mad Dog had been telling the truth when he’d said he owned Hatchet. It was one of the ways he kept a tight rein on the Roadburners crew: blackmail. Mad Dog had dirt on every single member and he had no issue with turning it into a noose and leaving them to hang on it.
Hatchet had seen it happen before, with members who stepped too far out of line or went against one of Mad Dog’s orders. He had no delusion that the crazy old bastard would even blink at the thought of using the dirt he had to get rid of anyone who crossed him. Whether it was Hatchet or even Jackrabbit.
“Hey, lovebirds!” Jackrabbit’s deep voice boomed from down the stairs, breaking the moment between Hatchet and Elsie. “Hurry the fuck up!”