Obsession (A Bad Boy's Secret Baby)(48)

Hands came for me, urgent... but not cruel. “C'mon, darlin', let's head out.”

Blinking, I gaped up at the stranger once more. What was he doing, and why was he doing it? My life had fragmented enough with new enemies, I didn't have the energy to accept someone trying to do me a favor.

Again, he pulled at me, his voice just a rumble in my melting brain. He wants to take me... away? Summoning what energy I had, I wrenched backwards, willed my legs to listen. In my chest, my shout was a wildfire, but it came out as a mere spark. “Let me go,” I mumbled, head falling to my chest. God, I can hardly move. How do I make him understand?

Those palms were solid, cradling my shoulders. Distantly, I was sure he meant to be soothing, but he didn't get it. I didn't need to be calmed down. If anything, I needed access to all the anger in my gut so that I could stop being such a timid butterfly.

Let me go, I thought, trying to will him with my pathetic stare.

As he squinted down at me, I focused on the deep, dark centers of his pupils... the bright flecks of green in that swam in the hazel... and I thought, odd as it was, that he had the most gorgeous eyes I'd ever seen.

My moment of sick tranquility ended in a bustle of movement. Easily he lifted me, throwing me over his shoulder and giving me vertigo. No, I thought desperately. No, don't take me away from here!

Didn't he see I didn't want to go?

Wasn't it clear this was the only way I would ever get answers?

Jostled so that my chin thumped his spine, I sensed the sudden crispness of the air outside. There was a buzzing, wasp-like noise following at our heels. I had no time to adjust to anything; in a new motion, I was yanked around, my legs dangling off of something hard.

He spoke again, demanding I hang on. He said more, but the cotton in my head swallowed it all. I battled between gagging and passing out, praying that my limbs would keep me in place as we began to move.

The energy between my thighs was familiar. Metallic, raw, it tickled my memory. A motorcycle. Clasping violently to the torso of my unlikely rescuer, I grounded myself in my realization. We're on a motorcycle. Where are we going?

Flooded with the floating sensation of speed, I hugged the bike with my knees. It was comforting—it reminded me so much of her. Clean air helped to wash the drug-funk from my head, my skin and muscles behaving again, though sluggishly.

I hadn't understood how messed up I was until the last of my recent dose seeped out of me. Under my palms, the smooth texture of the man's leather jacket was exquisite. When we hit a hard turn, throwing me against him, I caught a hint of his scent.

Pine, I thought idly. And something... something more wild.

“You awake back there?”

His voice startled me, cutting through my private thoughts. He'd slowed the bike's speed, our voices now audible over the crackling of the engine. Licking my dry bottom lip, I said, “You need to take me back.”

When he laughed, I felt it through his spine. “That's a funny way of saying 'thanks for saving my ass.'”

“Turn around,” I said, sitting up to try and get my bearings. “I mean it! I need to go back!” Where were we, what part of the country was I even in? I didn't know—I needed to know so many things. “Take me back to there, do it!”

We hit a rough patch in the road. Immediately I lost my balance, all signs that I was recovering from my weakened state vanishing. Red tickled at the edges of my vision, my head swimming.

An arm curled around, digging into my hip and stabilizing me. “Careful!” he snapped. “Sugar, there's no way we're going back to the brothel. You're in no state for any more action, and even if you were...” Trailing off, he led his bike down a slope, kicking up gravel.

Brothel, I thought in cold amazement. Yes, of course. That made a lot of sense. What better place to corral lost girls than a den of sex and money.

Everything was throbbing; I couldn't focus beyond the yellow headlights. When they flickered over a squat building, revealing coffee colored paint and a quaint red roof, I thought I must have fainted. Was this a new dream?

Rough palms yanked me from the bike, ending that theory.

“Put me down,” I groaned, shoving feebly at the stranger. I didn't know who he was, and I'd become far less trusting as of late.

Amazingly he released me, stepping away to shoot a patient look over my face. Whatever he saw, it made him frown. Catching my curious stare, he smiled and said, “You look right fucked up. That shit still burning through your system?”

Swallowing nervously at his observation, I pulled my coat tightly around me. “Take me back. I need to go back there.”

Sighing, he straightened up, turning away from me. His silence was heavy. Weirdly, I would have preferred if he'd shouted or snapped or something. Being ignored was... well, it hit too close to home.