Текст книги "Obscured"

Автор книги: Tara Sue Me

Соавторы: Cat Waters
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

Chapter Fifteen

The first thing I become aware of is the smell of gasoline. Raw. Suffocating. The taste trickles down my throat.  Maybe I’ve died and this is hell. Certainly, I imagine, hell smells like gasoline.

I crack open one eye.  Pain and light explode in front of me.  I tentatively roll my head. This is hell. There’s a fire somewhere nearby, and I’m still in the car. It takes everything I have to open the car door and crawl out.

My lungs are hungry for the fresh air outside the car, and I inhale in gulps. But I have to get away from the car. I don’t know if it’s going to blow up or if that only happens in the movies.

In front of me is the strange lady’s car, and I think I see something moving inside. I half walk, half crawl to the door. I have a faint memory of a gun, but maybe that was a dream.

I reach the door and pull myself up so I can see inside. She’s been shot. There’s a horrific wound in her shoulder that looks too close to her heart. She turns her head to look at me and moans.

I try to open the door, but it was damaged in the crash and won’t budge.

“Help... me...” the lady says.

“I’m trying. It’s stuck.”

I give it a hard jerk, and though it feels like my arm’s going to be ripped out of its socket, I get it open. She’s already undone her seatbelt somehow, so I ease my arms around her and help her out as best I can.

My strength is shot, and I barely get her out before we both fall to the ground. I grit my teeth and move her into a more comfortable position, but I know I’m not doing any good. The blood from her wound has already pooled in the dirt, and I can’t comprehend how she’s still alive.

Her soft moan proves she is, though. At least for now.

I fall to my knees beside her. I’d thought I could do something, anything to help her, but there’s nothing I can do. She’s alive for the moment, however, even someone with my lack of medical knowledge knows she won’t be for long.

I take her hand, delicate, fragile in my own, and softly stroke her skin. Black soot and red blood swirls together.

“It hurts,” she whispers. “So much.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears rolls down my cheeks, fall, and mix with the sludge covering her as I cry for this woman I don’t know. I brush my fingers across her forehead. She’s ice. “Just hang on. It’ll be okay.”

We both know it’s a lie.

“Help will be here soon.” Surely someone has spotted the fire and called someone.

The fire from my car burns steadily. It’s inching toward us, but I can’t move her.

I whisper nonsensical words to her instead. I murmur little phrases of nothing in particular. I want to somehow take away the pain and hurt, but I know I fail completely.

Her body jerks upwards and she gasps.

“I’m sorry,” I stroke her hand once more. “So sorry.”

“Oh.”

I glance to her face and her eyes blaze with a clarity that wasn’t there seconds before. She’s focused on something behind me.

I fear it’s the person who shot her, but I look over my should and there’s no one there. “Are you okay?” A stupid question, but the only one I can form.

“He’s coming.”

I pat her hand. “I’m sure they’re on their way.”

“Him.”

“Yes.” I don’t seem to be able to disagree with her.  Maybe I should look for her cell phone. I glance around, maybe it’s in her purse. Nothing.

“Let me call someone,” I offer. “Just need to find your phone.”

“He’s coming.”

I don’t see a purse anywhere. Either it’s still in the hump of scrambled metal that’s now the remains of her car, or it had been thrown out during the crash.

“I don’t know where your phone is. I can’t call anyone. I’m sure the police are coming.” I’m such a failure. “I don’t know anything.”

Her lips curl into a calm and joyous smile. “Not the police.”

Her chest rises, but doesn’t fall.

Sirens sound in the distance.

***

I don’t see her again. While I’m in the emergency room, I try asking the nurses around me about her, but they don’t say anything. I’m not too surprised; in the controlled chaos of the environment, there’s really not much time for them to sit around and chit chat. Not to mention, I’m sure it’s against the law for them to divulge any of that information to me.

I’m stuck in the ER for hours. I tell anyone who comes by that I’m fine and I want to leave, but I’m told I have to stay overnight for observation. My protests that there’s nothing wrong with me falls on deaf ears. I try not to think about how much the stay in the hospital is going to cost. Hopefully, the administration has some plan in place for those of us without insurance.

I don’t like being in the hospital. I know no one likes it, but for me, I feel exposed. There’s security in place, but for the most part, anyone who wants to can come in. I hope beyond hope Mike doesn’t find out I’m here. I’ll be an easy target until I get out.

It’s only when I’m finally in my room and the nurse’s aide is checking my blood pressure that I finally get answers.

“The lady I was brought in with,” I say then stop. I don’t know her name. I don’t know anything about her other than what Harris told me, and I’m not certain he was being honest.

“Jane Doe?” the aide asks. “Poor thing. You don't know her do you?”

I shake my head.

“I heard the police are trying to find out who she is. She didn’t have any identification on her.”

That doesn’t make sense. I think back to the food court. I know she had a purse. She dug into it to find her keys.

“What about her purse?” I ask.

“They didn’t find one. Or at least that’s what I heard.”

My head was already hurting, and now it’s pounding. I can’t tell her she had a purse in the food court because that’ll give away the fact I was following her. My memories of the crash are too fuzzy, I can’t remember exactly what happened.

My entire body suddenly freezes.

“Ma’am,” the aid says. “Are you okay?”

“They were there,” I mumble.

“Honey you need to calm down. Your pulse is racing, and your blood pressure’s climbing.”

Whoever shot her came back to the scene and took her purse. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Which means they know who I am.

She’s adjusting the cuff on my arm to take another reading, but stop her. “I have to leave.”

“Not until they release you.”

“No, I have to leave now.”

“Calm down. You need to rest.”

I’m too weak to struggle with her, and she’s not listening to me. My repetitive, “Please” isn’t doing any good. In fact, it appears to have the opposite effect. She’s concerned with my blood pressure reading, but in all honesty, all her repetitions of “Calm down” over and over again are just making my discomfort grow. She’s not listening, and those men who killed that woman and tried to kill me are out there, and so is Mike.

My eyelids grow heavy and I glare at the aid. “What did you give me?”

“Something to help you rest.”

“Don’t want to,” I start, but the drugs take over and I’m out before I finish the sentence.

***

It’s dark when I wake up. The room is still, but something’s off, I sense it as soon as I open my eyes. I close them again, because I know what it is. Someone’s in the room with me.

“I know you’re awake.”

Harris.

At least it’s him and not Mike. “Why didn’t you kill me when I was asleep? Will waiting until I’m awake give you some sort of thrill?” It’s big talk for someone hooked up to an IV and wearing a backless gown.

“I wanted to make sure you were safe.” His voice is expressionless when he talks.

I don’t say anything else. The pieces are starting to fall into place. Harris found me at the food court. He set up the lunch between the two women, and when the one left, he called the one he said was Isaiah’s wife. The crash was arranged, because he knew I’d follow her.

In the dark, his presence grows stronger. He was in the car. That’s why he wore a mask, so I wouldn’t recognize him. And after the crash, while I was still out, he stole the lady’s purse. Because he knew she wasn’t Isaiah’s wife.

“Get out of my room,” I say.

“Athena, listen.”

“Don’t listen me. I know what you’re doing. You’re keeping guard until Mike gets back. I’m not going back to him.”

“I’m not —”

“You’ve been stalking me for days. How else would you know I’m here?’

“I’m your only chance to get out of this alive.”

“Why would you want to keep me alive? Because I’m worth more to Mike that way? Screw you. Get out of my room.”

“What do I have to do to get you to believe me?”

“There’s nothing you can do. I’m never going to believe you. That woman wasn’t Isaiah’s wife. They’re calling her Jane Doe.”

“Because they took her ID.”

It’s so close to what I’d imagined, my blood runs cold. “Get out. Or I call for help.”

“Damn it, Athena.”

“Now.”

He doesn’t argue further. I hear the chair moan as he stands up. For a second, I think he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t. His footsteps echo softly as he walks out.

My head is still fuzzy from the drugs they gave me, yet even with all that, there is one clear thought running through my head. Get out. Get out now.

I’m not connected to the IV any longer; they must have taken that out while I was out of it. Can I simply get out of bed and walk out the door?  Possibly, but I don’t have any clothes. I’m going to have to find some though, it’s imperative I leave the hospital tonight. I know that if I’m still here in the morning, I’m as good as dead.

And I need to warn Vicki. I’m not sure what she tried to tell me before I went to Theo’s room, but she knew something. I need to tell her she was right. Maybe, just maybe, she has some money, and we can run away together. It’ll be safer with two people.

The downside is I’ll have to go back to our apartment complex, and Mike or one of his henchmen might be there. That’s another reason I need to leave tonight. If he thinks I’m still in the hospital, maybe he won’t be waiting for me.

I doubt there are any spare clothes in the room I’m in, and if I were to bet, the ones I had on in the crash were discarded. Damn it. I refuse to let a little thing like a lack of clothes keep me from leaving.

I sit up, fighting the dizzy feeling that tries to overtake me when I do so. Ever so slowly, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and for a few seconds I stay there.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

Eventually it becomes:

You have to do this. You have to do this. You have to do this.

My legs wobble when I slide off the bed, but I hold on to the rail long enough to steady myself. Damn it all. I can barely stand, how do I think I’m going to leave without drawing attention to myself?

I grit my teeth, scoop up my shoes, and shuffle toward the door. Easing it open, just a crack, I peek into the corridor. It’s empty. Not only that, but there’s a laundry cart across the hall from me. Housekeeping is cleaning out a recently vacated room. All I have to do is find something clean to  wear.

I hear someone humming from inside the room, and I decide I’m good as long as the sound doesn't come any closer. My heart pounds as I slide toward the cart. There’s a stack of scrubs folded on a shelf. I snatch them and duck into a nearby ladies room.

The restroom is deserted this time of night and I close the door and lean against it, catching my breath. The accident took more out of me than I thought. But to survive, I must get out of Vegas.

When I feel strong enough, I switch clothes and throw the hospital gown in the trash. Maybe no one will see it before I’m able to leave. I bend over to slip my shoes on and something is sticking out. It’s two twenty-dollar bills and a handful of ones. There’s also a note.

Sorry, it’s all I had.

The only person it could have been was Harris, and my mind tries to wrap itself around that. I don’t want to take his money, but it’ll pay for cab fare to Vicki’s. I count out the ones. I need an accurate total so I can pay him back.

It’s easier than I would have thought possible to leave the hospital. With the scrubs on, I blend in, and no one looks twice at me. Once I hail a cab, I lean back into the seat, but I can’t rejoice in my freedom just yet. Maybe when I get out of this God-awful city.

The apartment complex appears quiet as we approach. I tell the cab driver to stop before we get to it and let me out. On the off chance someone’s watching, I don’t want them to see the cab.

My heart pounds so hard when I step out of the cab, I’m surprised I can’t hear the sound echoing. Otherwise, it’s eerily quiet. Both my apartment and Vicki’s are dark. Even so, I plan to look over everything before going inside.

Once I’m in the parking lot, I hide between the cars, scoping out the next set I plan to hide between and looking around for any signs of movement or people waiting inside cars. My eyes have adjusted to the low light, and I dart between an SUV and pick-up truck. After scanning the empty area between me and Vicki’s door, I move as quickly as my legs will let me.

Seconds before I reach her door, something jumps out of the shadows. I’m barely able to muffle my scream, but I manage to do it, and I breath a sigh of relief it’s only a cat.

I lean against her door and wait for my heart to slow. Fortunately, everything appears calm and normal.

I have no way of knowing what time it is. It’s dark inside her apartment. I don’t know if she’s out or if she’s asleep. If she’s out, I’m not sticking around. Each minute I’m here is a risk and though I want to warn her, it’s not a risk I’ll allow myself to take twice.

I take a deep breath and knock softly. “Vicki,” I whisper. “It’s me. Open up.”

I put my ear against the door, but I don’t hear anything. Damn it.  I really wanted her to be home. I knock harder this time. Maybe she’s sleeping. “Vicki.”

This time I hear footsteps and I exhale a shaky breath. Yes.

The door opens and before I can scream, Harris has his arms around me with his hand over my mouth  and he’s whispering in my ear. “Shut up and keep it down.”

It’s sad how little effort he has to exert to pick me up and bring me inside. He puts me on my feet and turns on the light.

“Welcome back home, Athena.”

Mike is sitting in Vicki’s living room.

Chapter Sixteen

I want to call Harris a fucking traitor, but I’m so shaken at seeing both men in Vicki’s apartment, I can’t find the words. Behind me, Harris’s grip is strong and keeps me from running.

“Harris didn’t think you’d come back,” Mike says. “Why that is, I’m not sure. I told him you may not go to your place, but I figured you’d stop by to see Vicki and we just needed to be patient.”

I look around the apartment, trying to find something, anything, that can be used as a weapon. From what I can tell, my two choices are a letter opener and a beer bottle. I doubt I have the strength to break the beer bottle, so it’s going to have to be the letter opener. It’s to my right, on a table by the door. It’ll be a stretch, but if I can move fast enough, I might just be able to grab it and stab at least one of the men. I’ll probably aim for Mike.

He stands up and smirks at my attire. “Hospital scrubs? Really?”

I glare at him, trying to keep his attention so he doesn’t see the letter opener or my fingers inching toward it. Harris is standing behind me, I can’t tell what he’s focusing on, but if luck’s on my side, he’s not paying attention to my hand.

“Harris obviously thinks you’re much smarter than you are,” Mike says. “Why you’re not fifty miles away by now, I don’t know.” He reaches a hand out to touch my cheek. I steel myself so I don’t flinch. He’s pressing a bruise and it hurts like hell. “Of course, you’re not in the best shape to travel right now, are you?”

I keep my eyes on him, but don’t say anything. I probably won’t be able to stand much longer. I’m far too weak, but  I can’t let them see that. And more than anything, I have to get that letter opener.

“Nothing to say?” Mike asks. “I’m not sure what to do with you. In all honesty, it would have been easier if you stayed away. But you’re here, so we have to deal with you.”

Don’t show fear. Don’t show fear. Don’t show fear.

I try to remember if he had anything in his hands when he first stood up. I’m too tired. I can’t recall. And I’m not about to drop my eyes to check. My fingers move another inch toward the letter opener.

“You’re not much use to me,” he continues. “You’ve been nothing but a bunch of bruises for the last week. I can’t put you to work looking like you are.”

There’s an uncanny silence in the room. It occurs to me: The letter opener is probably my only hope to get out of this apartment alive. I take a deep breath and will my heart to slow down.

“Theo was quite upset you left so quickly and without saying anything. You’ve probably guessed already, but I sent Vicki to take your place.” His lips curl up into an ugly grin. “He wasn’t very nice to her from what I heard. Think he probably took some of his anger at you on her.”

Guilt floods me, because not once since being pulled into her apartment have I actually wondered where Vicki is. Then an entirely new kind of guilt hits me: She’s being hurt because of me. She tried to warn me, and I didn’t listen. What if I’d listened to her that day instead of being so determined to get to Theo's? Maybe we’d both be safe.

But I tell myself I can’t dwell on the what ifs, I have to focus on staying upright and reaching the letter opener. There’ll be time for what ifs later. I think briefly about asking to take her place, but I’m not going to. Doing so would show emotion, and I never show emotion to Mike if I can help it.

“I could send you back to Theo,” Mike says in echo to my thoughts. “At least that would get you out of my hair. If I’m lucky, maybe he’ll keep you out of my hair forever.”

In my mind, I plan my next movements. It’s my one chance, and I’m going to take it.

“What do you think about that?” Mike asks.

I spit at him and lunge for the letter opener at the same time. If anyone other than Harris held me, I probably would have made it. Unfortunately, Harris is onto my plan and he takes my wrist.

“Drop it.”

I try to stab Harris with my makeshift weapon, but he’s too strong. Before me, Mike is wiping his eyes and my blood runs cold at the look in them.

“That was  a mistake.” He plucks the letter opener from my hand with such ease I could cry. “A letter opener? Really, Athena?”

“It would have worked if this Neanderthal hadn’t been holding me.” I’ve just lost my one shot at getting away. They're probably going to kill me anyway. I don’t see any reason not to share everything on my mind.

Mike moves so fast, I’m not sure I blink before I realize he has a gun pointed at me. “Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you now.”

I take a deep breath to scream, but Harris smacks his hand over my mouth. My skin breaks out in a cold sweat, and I can’t keep my eyes off the gun.

“Mike. Stop.” Harris’s voice is deep in my ear.

“Stay out of this,” Mike says, not moving his gaze from my face.

“You brought me here for a reason. I don’t think you want me to stay out of this.”

“What’s she to you?”

“Nothing. She’s nothing to me. But that doesn’t mean I want her dead.”

“You getting soft, Harris?”

“I think killing her is more work that we need right now.”

Mike slowly lowers the gun. “True, and if she’s alive, she’ll be thinking about what’s happening to Vicki.”

I’m not able to stop my flinch at his words. He sees, of course, and he  obviously likes that.

“But I still don’t know what to do with her. She’s too much trouble to keep here.”

I’ve been standing too long and have had too many endorphins running through my body. My legs aren’t going to keep me upright much longer. The odd thought strikes me that I can’t remember when I last ate anything. No wonder I’m swaying and everything seems so surreal.

My body decides it’s taking too much energy to stay upright, and my knees buckle. Only Harris’s arms keep me from hitting the floor. My vision starts to fade.

“Worthless,” Mike says, a look of disgust on his face. “She’s no good to me in this shape, and she can't be out anymore. I need working girls, I’m not running a fucking hospital. Speaking of which,” he prods me with his foot, “If you think I’m paying that hospital bill, you’re sorely mistaken.”

I try to say something, but nothing comes out. The darkness is taking over.

“Let me have her,” Harris says.

Those are the last words I hear before the dark wins completely.

***

“Athena.” Mike has stopped by my apartment. It’s not common for him to do so these days. I’ve been with him eight years, and I typically do my best to stay away from him. It’s probably been a year since he last decided to grace my apartment  with his presence.

And today he’s not alone.

I don’t picture the guy with him as a client or customer. After so many years, I’m usually able to pick those men out. Normally, something in their eyes give them away, or the lift of their mouth does. This guy, though, I don’t know what he’s doing with Mike.

“This is Harris,” Mike says, and the new guy nods.

He’s not unpleasant to look at. In fact, many would probably call him good-looking. Unfortunately, he’s obviously friends with Mike, so that makes him ugly as hell to me. I try to keep my eyes on Mike, but something about Harris makes that difficult.

It’s more than his looks; it’s the way he holds himself. His demeanor. He has a bold confidence that doesn’t seem to be intimidated by Mike. It’s nothing I’ve seen before, and I wish I had that confidence.

“Harris, this is Athena. She’s very special to me.”

I try not to roll my eyes at Mike’s statement.

“Hello, Harris,” I say and nod. I don’t touch men as a rule if I don’t have to.

“Goddess of wisdom?” Harris asks, his voice friendly.

“Ironic, right?” I reply. “If my parents only knew.”

I kick myself for being so flippant. I know better than to be sucked in by a friendly voice and a pleasant looking exterior. But Harris is grinning. Wisely, he doesn’t mention my parents.

“I wanted you to meet him,” Mike says as if we didn’t say anything. “He’s going to be working with me now. He’ll be my second in command.”

“Huh, that’s too bad,” I say, looking straight at Harris. “Now I can’t like you.”

Mike looks like he’s going to hit me, but Harris laughs and slaps him on the shoulder. “I see why she’s so special to you.”

He’s laughing, but it’s true. Besides, he’s new. He won’t be laughing for very long.

***

When I wake up, I’m in a car. It catches me off guard, because I thought I’d already be dead or at least halfway there. I don’t open my eyes just yet. I want to gather as much information as possible without letting whoever’s around know I’m awake.

I’m reclining, which means I’m probably in the passenger seat. We’re moving rather fast, so I’m guessing we’re not in the city. We must be on a highway. I don’t feel anything around my arms or legs. Normally, I’d feel relieved that whoever I’m with didn’t feel the need to tie me up, but I’m in such bad shape, they probably knew they didn’t need to.

My left leg is asleep. I stretch it and, fuck, it hurts like hell.I gasp.

“Awake?”

It’s Harris.

I don’t answer him at first. I’m trying to decide how I feel that it’s him I’m in the car with. While it’s better than being in the car with Mike, it’s not that much better. He is Mike’s second in command, after all. Of course, having said that, Harris has never physically hurt me, and he did stop Mike from shooting me. I wonder why?

“Why am I here?” I ask.

“We’re going to my house.”

“Why?”

“Because Mike is letting me have you until he decides what to do with you.”

He’s letting Harris have me. It sickens me. Being away from my former occupation, even for a few days, has impacted me. I’m already getting addicted to the moments I’ve had of a normal lifestyle. One where I’m not giving myself away. I don’t think I can go back to it. Especially with Harris.

“Figures,” I say.

“What?” he asks.

I adjust my seat so I’m sitting upright, and I wince in pain.

“I’ll give you something to help the aches and pains when we get to my house. Now tell me what you meant by saying it figures.”

It’s easy to be myself around Harris and tell him exactly how I feel. I don’t like it, and I can’t explain it, but that’s how it is. I try to tell myself he’s a dangerous man, but it doesn’t work.

“It always seems to me that you try to separate yourself from Mike. That doesn’t make sense, because you work so closely with him, but that’s the impression I get.” I peek over at him, and his lips are pulled down in a frown. “Yet in the end, you’re just like everyone else.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that when it all boils down, you’re really just biding your time until you can have a piece of me, too.”

His frown deepens, and he slows the car down. I look around franticly; we’re in the middle of nowhere. “Why are you slowing down?”

He’s silent as he pulls well off the road and comes to a stop. In that moment, I know I’ve pushed him too far.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll shut up. Please don’t.”

When the car comes to a stop and he turns to face me, it isn’t anger in his eyes, but shock. “Damn it, Athena. What the hell do you think I’m going to do?”

“You were pulling off the road because I said something rude and snarky. What do you think I believed was going to happen?”

“You thought I was going to hit you?”

“Or worse.”

He sighs. “I pulled off the road because I wanted to give you my full attention, and I can’t do that and drive at the same time.”

“Oh.” I should feel guilty for thinking Harris would treat me like that, but I don’t. When you’ve been around as many men as I have, you realize that even the nicest ones have secrets. And you should never underestimate the strength a man has, because some of the strongest men I’ve met are small. Although no one would ever call Harris small.

“To answer your question, Mike has assigned me as your keeper until he can find you a partner.”

“Partner?” I’ve know Mike for over ten years. There is no way he’s looking for a partner for me. “I don’t believe you.”

“You’ve said that a lot to me lately.” He almost smiles. “I wouldn’t know what to think if you actually did believe me.”

“No, I believe he assigned me to you, but I don't buy the line about a partner.” I raise an eyebrow. “When you say gave....”

For the first time since I woke up in his car, Harris isn't smiling. His face contorts into an expression of disgust. “His exact words were, ‘Do what you want with her, but try to keep her alive.’”

Try to keep her alive.

My stomach revolts even though it’s empty, and I dry heave. That one phrase echoes in my head. Try to keep her alive. Try to keep her alive.

“Athena.” Harris’s voice is faint. “You’re okay. Take deep breaths.”

But I’m not. I’m not okay. Mike took away my ability to be okay years ago, and no matter how hard I try, I never seem to be able to take it back.

“Let me leave,” I say in-between heaves. “Please.”

“I can’t do that.”

Right. Because even though he acts nice, he reports to Mike. I’ll do well to remember that.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says.  “Do you know how dangerous it’d be for me to let you go?”

I’m doing this for your own good. Fuck, it’s almost like Mike told him exactly what to say.  My life is one horribly messed up glob of lies that someone tried to dust off and make look pretty, but the sad truth is, at the end of the day, it’s still a glob of lies. I’m so tired of lies.

Just this once.

It won’t matter.

You’ll love it.

I’m only looking out for you.

It’ll be okay.

“One day,” I tell Harris. “I’m getting out and I’m going somewhere where I get to decide what’s best for me.”

He’s nodding. “I understand your desire for that. Now’s not the time.”

For a minute, I get the impression there’s a hidden meaning behind his words. Almost as if he’s trying to tell me something. I tilt my head. He really does have pretty eyes. And right now they’re begging me to understand.

“Who are you, Harris?” I say.

He doesn’t flinch. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Let’s start with your last name.”

“My last name is Harris.”

“Your name’s Harris Harris?” I can’t help it; I laugh. “How did you manage to piss your mom off so badly before you were born?”

He starts the car again and pulls onto the highway. “I didn’t piss my mom off before I was born. Harris isn't my first name.”

“What’s your first name?”

“Caden.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Harris Harris is better.”

“I’ll tell my mom.”

We’re a few miles down the road before I realize I’m smiling.

You are so fucked up. You shouldn’t be comfortable with this man.

But my smile doesn’t go away.

He drives us to a house about fifteen minutes outside of Vegas. The home he pulls up to is larger than I would have imagined a bachelor living in. And though it’s not isolated, his neighbors aren’t so close he can see what they’re eating for dinner by looking out his window.

“Big place for a guy living by himself.” As soon as the words come out of my mouth I realize I have no way of being certain he actually lives by himself. For all I know, he could be married with five kids.

But he replies simply, “I like my space.”

I’m more sore than I thought and it hurts like hell to climb out of the car. Harris is by my side in a flash after hearing my moan.

“You should have waited for me.”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting out of a car,” I snap back.

He takes my attitude in stride, neither getting angry or coddling me. “I have some of your clothes in the trunk– ”

“Don’t want them.” I start to hobble to the door.

“You have to wear something.”

I stop and turn around. “Caden Harris, I’ve had a woman die in my arms. I’ve almost been killed. I haven’t had anything to eat in I don’t know how long. I’ve been this close to escaping from the jackass who’s owned me for the last ten years and not long ago I was given to a man with instructions to do what he wanted to with me as long as he kept, rather tried to keep, me alive. Shove the clothes up your ass. I’ll go naked before I wear them.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he’s trying hard not to laugh. “Do you want the toothbrush, or should I shove it up my ass, too?”

There’s no way to answer him, so I head back to the door and wait for him to unlock it.

He closes the trunk, wisely leaving the clothes where they are. “There’s a public nudity restriction in my homeowners agreement, so wrap a towel or something around you before heading outside. Deal?”