Savage Hunger(13)
Desperately she tried to block them, think of something else, but it was already too late…
“Prom was invented by the devil,” Sienna muttered, clutching the edge of her fluffy pink prom dress as she stumbled down the darkened road in high heels.
Her tears had long since dried up, leaving what she was sure were unflattering streaks of mascara down her face. She knew she should still be afraid—out walking the highway alone after midnight—but right now, she was just a little too pissed off and shaken.
When she’d asked Dayle to go to prom, she couldn’t have predicted this. But then maybe she should have, seeing as what had just happened in his car fifteen minutes ago.
Headlights bounced on the road up ahead and she stiffened, hoping it wasn’t Dayle coming back to pick her up. When she’d climbed out of his car, she’d been pretty sure he’d gotten the message about her removing his genitals with pliers if he tried to follow her.
The car slowed and she muttered a curse when it swerved to the side of the road in front of her, spraying gravel just inches from her feet.
The fear from earlier resurfaced, tightening her throat as she stumbled backward. He had come back.
A door slammed and a tall figure strode swiftly toward her. “Sienna?” a male voice said sharply.
Relief rocketed through her so swiftly that her limbs went weak and tears filled her eyes. No. Definitely not her groping bastard of a date.
“Warrick,” she choked out, as her older brother’s best friend reached for her. “How did you find me?”
“Sheer luck.” Warrick’s arms went around her, pulling her head against his chest and her into a snug, warm embrace.
The fear slipped away, leaving an absolute certainty that she was safe now. She was always safe with Warrick.
“Jesus, are you okay, Sienna? What’s going on? Why the hell are you out walking alone on a deserted road? It’s almost one in the morning.”
Tears spilled down her cheek as she shook her head. “I am so not okay. And I’m out walking alone because my date had his own perverted version of a post-prom party.”
A savage growl erupted from Warrick’s throat, and Sienna blinked, her pulse quickening as she unconsciously pulled away from the fury in his gaze.
Warrick tightened his arms around her, demanding, “Did he touch you? Hurt you?”
“N-not really. But you’re kind of scaring me, Warrick.”
In the beam of his car’s headlights, his eyes took on a dangerous glint. “Shit. I’m sorry, Sienna,” he muttered. “Come on, let’s get you into my truck.”
She stumbled to keep up with him as he rushed her back to his waiting vehicle. He helped her inside and then shut the door, walking around to his side.
Though it was almost June, the night walk had chilled her and Sienna flipped on the heat, letting the hot air and the Foo Fighters song that was playing distract her from her dark thoughts.
Warrick climbed in the driver’s side and shut the door, but made no move to drive.
“Were you drinking?”
Guilt sent a flush to her face, but because she trusted him enough to keep it to himself, she admitted the truth. “I had a couple beers earlier.”
His jaw clenched, then unclenched. She could tell he wasn’t pleased. “You’re underage,” he reminded her, sounding like her father instead of a friend.
“Everyone was drinking, Warrick. Chill.” She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
He caught her wrist suddenly and frowned. “You’re wearing it.”
Her heart thumped harder as she stared down at the delicate silver bracelet with the tiny moon charm that he’d given her for her sixteenth birthday. Funny he’d spotted the bracelet in the darkness of the truck.
“I love it, Warrick,” she finally said. “I rarely take it off.”
A faint smile flickered across his mouth, before it tightened into a slash. “Tell me what happened at the prom, Sienna.”
She swallowed hard and looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”
He shifted in his seat, stretching his arm over the back of the bench seat. She felt the heat of his hand near her bare shoulder. “Like hell it doesn’t. Now talk.”
She glanced up at him through her lashes. When had she stopped thinking of him as her brother’s best friend, and instead as the hot guy who came by the house? It had to be close to a year now. And each time he’d come by, she’d prayed her new crush wasn’t blatantly obvious.
She didn’t want to admit to him the humiliating details of what had happened tonight. She wanted to seem mature and confident, not a naïve little high schooler. Warrick was almost out of college now, a grown man. How was she going to convince him they could be perfect together if he just saw her as an annoying teenager?