Jamie

 

There was an odd war going on within me. On the one hand, I felt extremely proud of myself for leaving. Screw Pax and Kato and all the other strangely buff, leather wearing, motorcycle riding employees—or whatever you wanted to call them. They had no right to order me around and manhandle me and then, on top of it all, keep me like some sort of prisoner. Pax could take all of his reasons and shove them up his ass because I wasn’t buying them. Sure, the money was great and all, but it wasn’t enough to buy my freedom from me.

 

But despite all of those surface feelings, I felt a little nervous. I was in my car, driving back to where I hoped the main road was. I wasn’t familiar with this area specifically, but if I could get to the main road, I was sure I could make it home from there.

 

If I’d left right away, it wouldn’t have been a problem, I thought. I was sure I’d have remembered the road well enough right after traveling down it.

 

Navigation aside, there was also the little niggling in the back of my head that this could be dangerous. Pax had said he owned a company, and it was through that company that he hired and paid me. But what if that was some front for a crazy mafia hitman business?

 

Okay, that sounded a little extreme—I really needed to stop reading those damn romance novels—but at the same time, it was starting to sound a little less far-fetched. In fact, based on the way everyone was acting and their reluctance to let me leave for anything, I was halfway to buying that.

 

“Jesus, did I just run out on a hitman?” I asked the empty car aloud.

 

I pressed down on the gas a little harder, suddenly thinking that putting as much space between myself and that house was a damn good idea. If Pax came after me, I was screwed. And not in the seducing me, ripping off my clothes, sexy kind of way, either. No, as in pour my feet in concrete and dump me in the river.

 

A shudder ran through my body, unbidden. God, I didn’t want to swim with the fishes.

 

Just go home, get changed, and call work. Everything’s going to be fine, normal. They won’t try anything because you can call the cops on them.

 

But as soon as that thought ran through my mind, I realized just how uncomforting that was. Seriously? I could call the cops. Which meant I was a liability. Which meant they’d come after me, right? That was how all of this crap worked!

 

Suddenly turning that thought around on its head, I tried to reason that they wouldn’t come after me because I didn’t know enough. “I mean, other than knowing that Kato was in an accident, I don’t know anything,” I told the steering wheel, starting to sound a little panicky. Not good. “Sure, I know where they are, but what’s that matter if they’re not doing anything illegal?” I winced because I was pretty sure they were doing something illegal. I just wasn’t sure what. “Okay, um, maybe they’ll just move to a different house? It looks like Pax inherited something from his parents.”

 

The words fell flat even to my own, willing ears. No, they wouldn’t move. That was complicated and a waste of resources. Instead, the easiest thing to do would be to get rid of the person who could potentially lead the police right to them.

 

I was so focused on my worries—so positive that Pax was right behind me, blazing after me on his motorcycle like some demon straight from hell—that I didn’t notice the lights in front of me. When I did see them, I thought they were coming from the main road, which was, finally, just up ahead. So I didn’t pay them much attention other than to be vaguely aware of them.

 

I didn’t notice when they slowed down or when they branched off, two car headlights turning into two independent, motorcycle lights. I didn’t start noticing them until they split off from the middle of the road and they’re on either side of it. One head’s right for me, and the other closes in until they’ve got me boxed in. My eyes widen and I curse, resisting the urge to jerk the wheel for fear that I’d hit one of them.

 

They zoom past me quickly, and I breathe a sigh of relief, relaxing my death grip on the wheel. “What the hell was that anyway?” I mutter under my breath, my heart still pounding from the crazy motorcycle stunts. I wondered if they were more of Pax’s boys. He seemed to have a lot of employees running around. Probably doing illegal drug deals or assassinations or whatever.

 

I glanced in the rearview mirror at the two motorcycles, expecting to see their taillights in the distance. Instead, I saw that they’d turned around and where now facing me again. “What the—?” My question stopped abruptly when I took my eyes from the rearview mirror to stare out the windshield again. That was when I saw the truck.

 

It was massive and black with what looked like flames but only when they caught the light just right. Ghost flames. I wouldn’t have given the truck a second look if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was in my lane.

 

“Oh shit!” I cried, jerking the wheel to the side in an effort to avoid the truck. But I was unsuccessful because the damn truck followed me. It swerved, too, and I gave a cry of fear and surprise. If one of us didn’t do something, we were going to collide. Jerking my wheel again, I finally managed to swerve myself off into the ditch along the side of the road. The car rolled, and I screamed. I ended up hanging upside down, the seatbelt probably saving my life as the car ended up settled on its roof.

 

I groaned. What in the hell was all of that?

 

Mentally, I checked myself. My head was throbbing, but that was likely from all the blood rushing to it from hanging upside down. At least, I hoped that was all it was. I felt something warm trickle down my face and had a feeling it wasn’t tears.

 

My hands felt okay, if a little shaky. My torso was sore, particularly from where the seatbelt bit into my body, but I was grateful still. The windshield was broken, glass shards all over the car, and I was pretty sure I had some imbedded in me somewhere, though I wasn’t sure yet. It didn’t take a genius to guess that I could have easily ended up outside the car. The seatbelt was digging between my breasts and pinching at my waist and ribs, but it saved me, so I tried not to complain too much.

 

Wheezing out a choked breath, I forced myself to focus—first, on the fact that I needed to get down and second, on the fear that was telling me that I’d just been deliberately run off the road.

 

Had it been Pax?

 

The thought came cold and fast, but I shoved it away. No, Pax would have come from the other direction. And there were at least three people involved in what just happened. It wasn’t him.

 

My mind flashed to the way he kissed me, deep and hungry, his hands clutching my body, his arousal pressing against my stomach.

 

I swallowed roughly. I really hoped it wasn’t him.

 

Hesitantly, I reached for my seatbelt. There was no delicate way to get down, but I was going to have to. “Don’t land on your neck,” I muttered hoarsely, my voice sounding like it was being drug along sandpaper.

 

Pressing the release button, the seatbelt snapped away, and I tumbled to the ground or rather, the roof of my car. I landed in a heap, catching my shoulder and my side, which decidedly did not feel good. I let out a cry of pain before I remembered that I’d been run off the road and someone might be standing above the ditch watching me. Waiting. Listening. Checking to see if they’d succeeded in killing me.

 

I’d landed on some of the glass from the windshield, the tiny cuts making it hard to get on all fours. That and my shoulder was no incredibly sore. I didn’t want to move, but I needed to get out of the car.

 

Instead of trying to get one of the doors opened, I twisted my body around so that my legs were pointed towards the windshield, at least to where the windshield had been not so long ago. I kicked at the remaining glass, clearing a space for me. When I’d gotten it as jagged-free as possible, I carefully crawled out the window and into the mud of the ditch.

 

Being out of the car did wonders for my disposition, until I saw three men standing at the side of the road, right above the ditch where I’d just been run off.

 

Two of them had to be at least six feet tall and full of muscles. The third was short, but he seemed twice as big as the other two. All of them were dressed in black, and they were all incredibly intimidating. Terrifying.

 

Why had they run me off the road?

 

I begin to shake. Not just from the adrenaline after the accident or from my shot nerves but from fear. I can feel it in my bones—this is going to be bad. My mind searched for an escape, a way out, but where could I go? I was in bad shape, bloodied and bruised. I didn’t even know how bad the damage was. My car was set on its roof, and there was no way I could turn it over.

 

I can run, I thought wildly, but I knew that was a lost cause, too. Because I wasn’t going to make it anywhere in my shape, not when those three men had good, strong builds and were very clearly after me.

 

The man in the middle, one of the tall ones, took a step forward like he was about to come down into the ditch after me, but then he stopped. They all turned at the same time, back towards the road I’d just come from. I looked, too.

 

Headlights illuminated the three men, and for a second, I got even more frightened. Had they called in backup?

 

But then the car pulled to a stop. The door opened…and Pax got out.

 

It took him four steps and about two seconds before he decked the first guy so hard that he crumpled to the ground, no longer moving. The other two guys didn’t risk waiting for Pax to get them the same way, and they ran at him. He caught a fist in the shoulder and the gut, but it didn’t seem to slow him down.

 

He took care of the short guy quickly, slamming him onto the hard asphalt and kicking him once, hard in the middle, for good measure. The last man fared a little better. He dodged Pax’s punch and tried to get ahold of him from behind, but Pax wasn’t having it. He grabbed the other man’s arm and twisted. I could see the moment it broke, even before the man screamed in pain.

 

Releasing the arm, Pax took another swing at the guy. This time it hit him squarely in the jaw. It must have knocked him out because the guy went down and the screaming stopped. Everything was suddenly still, and Pax was officially the last one standing.

 

He looked over to me, and I heard him curse. “Dammit!” He slid down into the ditch, coming to a stop just in front of me. My eyes were probably as wide as saucers, and I could feel myself still shaking. I couldn’t look away from him.

 

“They…” I started, but I didn’t even know what I was trying to say.

 

“Shut up,” he told me sternly.

 

I might have been pissed at him if the hand that he reached out to touch me wasn’t so damn soft and gentle against my cheek, like he was scared of hurting me. Which was good, because I was hurting everywhere.

 

His hands fluttered over me, examining me like he was a damn doctor, before he finally said, “C’mon. You’re coming back with me.”

 

I didn’t argue, though I had enough trouble moving that he got irritated with me. He finally just scooped me up, pressing my body against his chest and holding me tightly in his strong, well-muscled arms. He carried me up the hill, then popped open the passenger side door. He set me in there gently, which was at odds with his pissed-off glare and his pursed lips.

 

He slammed the door after me, then went around to the driver’s side. He stared up the car and drove me back in complete silence. If I hadn’t just been in a bad accident—and hadn’t been sure those guys meant me serious harm—I might have filled that silence with anger or snide remarks. But he’d saved me, and I was hurt. All I wanted to do was curl up next to—

 

Stop it, I ordered myself because it was not okay to want to curl up with him, no matter if he saved me. I had been down that road before and bombed spectacularly. I wouldn’t do it again.

 

When we arrived at the house again, he came around to the door and actually opened it for me. “Can you walk?” he asked, his tone laced with annoyance. “Or should I just treat you like a fucking invalid and carry you again?”

 

My own temper flared—a welcome change from the fear—and I shoved at him to get him out of the way. I swung my legs around and got to my own feet. Then, I nearly fell back into the cab when darkness swamped my vision. But his hands reached out quickly to grab my arms, steadying me. I let him stabilize me for a minute before shaking him off.

 

“I’m fine,” I croaked, though I felt like I was anything but.

 

He shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t give two shits whether or not I was okay, then turned and headed into the house. I hobbled along slowly after him. My legs were working, thank God, but my shoulder and ribs hurt. I hoped they were only bruised, not broken, but it was too early to say.

 

I followed him inside. He pointed to a chair. “Fucking sit down and stay, would you?”

 

I didn’t have to be a genius to hear how pissed off he was. But I obliged. I told myself it was mostly because I was damn tired and didn’t think I was going to get much farther.

 

I heard him grumble about stupid women doing stupid fucking things as he disappeared into the mudroom. When he came back out, he was holding rubbing alcohol, gauze, Band-Aids, and a couple of other things that were clearly for me.

 

Jeez, do I really look that bad? I wondered, then instantly decided I didn’t want to know.

 

He knelt in front of me, looking me in the eyes. For a moment, I got lost in their dark depths. I felt that familiar flare of desire that comes whenever he was around, despite his general asshole personality. The urge to kiss him swept over me like a moment of madness, so strong that I felt myself leaning towards him before I could even think otherwise. I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch in what might have been a smile, but it was gone so quickly that maybe it hadn’t been there at all.

 

His eyes darkened further as he demanded, “Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?”

 

Oh boy.