“The hell you are! . . . She’s like a goddamned wolverine!”
A low chuckle vibrated Pete’s chest. “Nah . . . more like a frightened filly, ‘sall.” That said, he actually unpinned my arms for one second to stroke a hand over my mane. Meanwhile, my mouth continued to be muzzled by his other hand like I was gonna gnaw off his arm or something.
“Don’t let her go!” Ranger ordered. “I don’t want to end up road kill for these yahoos to scrape off the highway.” After a few more minutes of what appeared to be random driving, he pulled off the black asphalt and onto one of the dirt roads arming off the long stretch of interstate.
As we hurtled along, I noted that I liked Pete a heck of a lot better than Ranger, despite the fact that he still held me bound-and-gagged. For one thing, Ranger kept using the Lord’s Name in vain, a habit that I personally detested. Secondly, he just compared me to a wolverine, and my feminine ire was curiously aroused by this. But most importantly, I had the distinct feeling that Ranger detested me, despite the fact that he didn’t know me from Eve.
Unless he did.
We continued to drive into the country abyss, and I continued to wonder where they were taking me. I needed some answers. If they were going to drive me out into the middle of nowhere to hack me into pieces, then apparently, I at least wanted the common courtesy of knowing about it in advance.
Ready to talk, I mumbled into Pete’s palm, but he was too busy debating about our whereabouts with Ranger to answer. I gathered they were a bit lost on the unmarked country roads.
“Don’t blame me if you missed the turnoff—I’m trying to quell a nosebleed over here,” Pete said, tossing his head back.
Another spasm of remorse shook me (which was very disconcerting considering the fact that he had virtually kidnapped me against my will). I redoubled my efforts to harden my heart against him. Trouble was I’d just breathed in another lungful of his exposed throat, and it had me feeling more like snuggling in than escaping out.
“Damned backassward roads!” Ranger stomped on the brakes, and we all lurched forward before coming to a halt. Dust flew up around us in clouds of wispy smoke. He leaned over to fiddle with the GPS system, appearing to get more irate by the second.
This made me feel a smidge better due to the simple fact that I knew where we were and they didn’t. Inexplicably, we were just a few miles down the road from my house, where that prairie fire had burned down an abandoned farmhouse a few years ago. I wasn’t exactly sure how this knowledge helped me, but it kind of made me feel like I had some small weapon in my arsenal of survival.
And then the neon dashboard flashed the time at me: 12:07. Crap! It felt like a small cannonball just made contact with my stomach. My curfew was 11:00, and that was after much wheedling and begging. If I didn’t walk through my front door pronto, then I would be better off in the hands of my abductors! I must not have been in my right mind, because not making curfew should’ve been the least of my worries at the moment. But there it was niggling at my brain like a worm.
“Mmmm.” I began squirming now, more insistent. “Mmm-mm-mmm.”
Ranger shot me a dirty look before setting right back to work with his keypad. Pete simply readjusted me in his arms as if I were merely trying to convey my discomfort. I huffed out a huge, aggravated sigh. If they were not going to kill me, then my father surely would.
“Maybe we should throw a blanket over her,” Ranger suggested, glancing up from his task. I glared at him.
“I think it’s time to cut her loose,” Pete said.
“If she kicks the GPS system out of order, you’re walking home.” The statement was said with levity. However, I had the distinct impression that Ranger would actually follow through with his threat.
A sigh escaped Pete, the puffed out sweet air stirring my hair. “Duly noted.” His voice sounded abnormally nasally now. “Hand me a napkin, will you? My nose is still bleeding.”
Another pang shot through me. I wondered if it was because I felt bad for inflicting the injury, or because I had inflicted it on the wrong abductor.
The abductor, still holding my mouth hostage, removed his hand as warily as if I were a bomb he was detonating. The sudden release of pressure shocked me into silence. I’d already realized, of course, who it was: it was Baseball Cap from the restaurant, and I now knew his name was Pete. He looked at me for what felt like the first time tonight. A slow burn started that was part guilt for mangling his face and part embarrassment from being so exposed—I just realized I’d been draped across his lap half naked. Blood rushed to the surface of my skin. My eyes retreated shyly to my lap; I was suddenly glad for the sheltering darkness.
Ranger handed over a napkin and snapped on the interior light to inspect the damage. A low whistle discharged from his lips. “Damn, man! No doubt about it . . . that eye’s gonna be one black beauty.” He sounded cheered by this idea.
Gah! I’d done more damage than I thought. I felt kinda queasy that I’d spoiled the most spectacular face I’d ever seen. It was a travesty to destroy such beauty—like taking a knife to a Michelangelo painting. My actions were perhaps a bit hasty, because I wasn’t even sure if he was friend or foe.
Pete snorted, then winced. “You’re one to talk. You look like you’ve been in a street fight with a herd of angry cats.”
I felt the weight of both their eyes on me, searching for answers. I peeked up from beneath my wet lashes at Pete. But to my dismay, his soft brown eyes were staring down at me with a hard expression. Well, one soft brown eye, because the other was currently swelling shut. I also noticed, with another twinge of remorse, that his patrician nose was still oozing red. Did I really do all that? Frightened from the combined heat of their displeasure, I sniffed again as more tears threatened.
Ranger rolled his eyes. “Crying’s not going to get you out of this one, little lady.”
I shouldn’t be the one on the defensive here. Is it my fault a big brute chased me down a dark alley? I didn’t ask for them to appear out of thin air. (Although a small voice inside was finally allowing that I might be lucky that they did.)
And that I’d landed in Pete’s lap. I realized just how gentle he’d actually been with me under the circumstances . . . unlike others. I dared another glare at Ranger before returning my eyes to Pete. We stared intently at each other for a lost moment, and a mad impulse to brush back his golden hair and tenderly tend his bruised and broken skin overtook me. So I guess it was a good thing he still held me bound.
Pete’s expression softened. Something flickered in his eyes that prompted him to finally remove the arm-shackle binding me to his chest to snap off the light. “The light’s bothering my eye,” he stated in way of explanation.
But I knew that was a lie—something about me had bothered him.
My hands used their newfound freedom to hastily swipe at mascara smears. Pete swiped at his nose with the napkin Ranger handed him.
“Maybe you could borrow one of her tampons to plug it?” Ranger suggested while I conveyed to him the depth of my loathing through my eyes. “Uh-oh, I think she’s plotting my death again,” he said to Pete. Then after a beat: “So let’s have it, Glasses . . . Why were you running from us tonight?”