“Come quietly or I’ll stun gun your ass.”
I stopped struggling. I didn’t doubt he’d do it.
He attached the other cuff to something below the seat, so I was forced forward, my face resting on the dash. This position made my head throb harder and put pressure on my aching belly. I was this close to puking.
He started the car and pulled out into the street. I thought about my car, unlocked behind us, then thanked God I hadn’t brought Josh with me. He was safe. What I didn’t do was think about why I was handcuffed to the floor of Hunter’s car, or what he planned to do to me.
I was facing him. I didn’t want to, but it was either that or rest the aching side of my head on the hard dashboard. The muscles in his forearms jumped and bunched as he drove. He’d added more tattoos. They hadn’t been full sleeves before he went to prison, and now his arms and hands were completely covered. My gut tightened at the sight of his scarred knuckles. How he must had gotten those scars . . .
My gaze traveled higher, to his neck. More ink. As familiar to me as my own reflection. His eyes were focused on the road, but I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t as calm as he was trying to appear. For one thing, his square jaw was hard as stone, and the muscle at the side was jumping every now and then, like he was grinding his teeth. For another, those inked fingers were gripping the wheel tight enough to turn his skin white.
“What are you going to do?” The words just popped out of my mouth, without my say-so.
He didn’t answer, just kept his eyes fixed ahead.
“Hunter . . .”
His gaze slashed to me. “Shut the fuck up.”
I shut the fuck up. Nothing I could say at this point would make him let me go. I knew that much.
I thought about Josh, tucked up in that big double bed, so small and defenseless. God, what if he woke and got upset because I wasn’t there? Aunt Sara would be worried out of her mind. She’d agreed not to call the cops, but I didn’t know if she’d stick to that promise faced with the reality of me being MIA.
Oh God, Pierce would find out I was in the city. He’d go to my aunt’s, he’d find out about my son. I squeezed my eyes shut, tried to slow my breathing. I was on the verge of a panic attack. I needed a phone. Somehow, I had to convince Hunter to let me call her.
We drove for what felt like forever before we finally stopped. My neck hurt, I had a cramp in my side, and pins and needles in both feet. Hunter slid the keys from the ignition, then looked down at me. “You can scream all you like, no one will hear you.”
On that comforting note, he climbed out, came around to my side of the car, and pulled open the door. Un-cuffing me, he dragged me out.
The smell of earth and pine hit me before my eyes could figure out where the hell I was. Trees surrounded us—a forest. There was a small cabin a few yards away.
Hunter gave me a shove, pushing me up onto the front porch, opened the door, and crowded me inside. He flicked on the light, but I didn’t see much because he kept moving me forward until we reached another door.
“Get in.”
I did as he said, scrambling into the small bathroom.
He flipped the lid closed on the toilet. “Sit.”
“Hunter . . .”
“Sit the fuck down,” he barked.
I sat.
He attached the cuff, still dangling from my wrist, to a pipe below the sink, and I shot back to my feet, or tried too. “No. Please don’t . . .”
One minute I’d wrapped my fingers around his forearm, the next I was up against the wall. Hunter stared down at me, nostrils flaring, eyes hot, wild, absolutely terrifying. He pressed against me from chest to thigh, breathing heavily.
A cold tingle slithered down my spine, a gasp escaping when an unsettling warmth hit me low in the belly, tiny pulses of pleasure firing to life. It felt like my body was waking from a deep slumber, like one touch from Hunter had awakened those sensory memories, the ones I’d locked away. Things I’d tried to forget every day for the last three years.
But my body remembered. It remembered exactly how he’d made me feel.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Hunter hated me. It was all there, the betrayal, the anger, the disgust. No, I hadn’t just burnt that bridge—I’d decimated it then torched it for good measure. At the time, it had been my only option. I believed that still. If I allowed myself to believe differently, I thought I might actually go mad.
I’d always known he’d come for me. It was only a matter of time, and I’d known there sure as hell wouldn’t be a happy reunion .
An eye for an eye, babe. Someone fucks with me, I’ll fuck them back, harder. Always.
His words echoed through my head, words he’d said to me many times when I was his. That was the life he’d come from, a motto he lived by. I knew that and still did what I had to. Now I had to face the consequences of my actions.