Third Grave Dead Ahead
Page 33
I glanced to the side. The hand with the makeshift knife gripped the steering wheel as if his life depended on it. The fact that he was hurt reminded me of a line he’d told me a while back: Beware the wounded animal.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
He opened his eyes to me and said, matter-of-fact, “Because you’ll run if I don’t.”
“No, I mean, why did you escape?”
He frowned. “They wouldn’t let me out otherwise.” Another pained expression flashed across his face.
I glanced down. The dark coveralls were drenched in blood, and a gasp escaped before I could stop it. “Reyes—”
An aggressive knock on my door made us both jump. The knife was at my throat instantly. The wounded animal indeed.
“If you try anything—”
I ground my teeth. “Seriously?”
“Dutch,” he said, a warning in his voice.
“I won’t.” Even if I’d been brave enough to fight him, the knife was simply too close, too menacing for me to do anything foolhardy. Not that foolhardy wasn’t my middle name.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Dutch.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Then don’t make me.”
The persistent knock sounded again.
I reached over to unzip the plastic window, and he pressed the knife deeper into my skin.
Leveling a steady gaze on him, I explained, “He’s not just going to go away. I have to talk to him.”
When he didn’t respond, I reached over and unzipped the window, but just a little. It was still pouring out. That’s when I felt Reyes’s thumb across my lips and looked back, startled. He lowered his intent look to my mouth, let it linger for half a second, then bent his head and kissed me. I knew instantly what he was doing. Who would question two lovers taking advantage of the weather?
The kiss was amazingly gentle. Liquid and warm. His tongue slid across my lips and I opened them, giving him access, permission to deepen the kiss. And he did. He tilted his head and dived inside, his mouth scalding against mine. Irony at its finest. This was the first kiss we’d actually shared in the flesh, the real deal.
Without thought, I raised my hands to his chest, solid and blisteringly hot. A steely arm snaked around my neck and pulled me into him. Despite the unhurried tenderness of his actions, his muscles were rigid, poised to strike should the need arise.
I could not mistake this for more than what it was. As heavenly as it felt to be wrapped in the arms of Reyes Farrow, to feel his mouth on mine, the courts had declared him a murderer. More than that, he was desperate. And desperate men did desperate things.
“Guess you two have things under control.”
Startled, I broke the kiss off and glanced over to see an elderly man in a bright yellow slicker chuckling at us.
“Personally, I’d have gone for the backseat, but that’s just me.”
I turned to the face framed within the window opening, and felt the pressure of a blade at my throat, angled so the man couldn’t see it. As I flashed my best smile to the man practically drowning outside my window, I felt another wave of pain wash over Reyes and the knife tip pierced my skin. I flinched when it drew blood. He immediately eased up.
“I’m sorry,” I said to raincoat man, my voice unsteady. “We were just taking advantage of the storm.”
“I understand,” he said with a huge grin. “You might want to pull over a little farther. Never can tell in a storm like this what other drivers’ll do.”
“Thank you. We will.”
He looked at Reyes, studied him a moment, then turned back to me. “But everything’s okay?”
“Oh, sure,” I said as Reyes sank down into the passenger’s seat. He probably realized he was hovering over me like an escaped convict might hover over a hostage. But that could just be me projecting. Lowering the knife to my rib cage, he pressed it into my jacket to let me know it was still there. He was so thoughtful.
“Everything’s fine,” I continued. “Thank you so much for checking. Not many people would brave such a storm.” I glanced up at the rumbling sky.
“Well,” he said, smiling sheepishly, “I’m at the store over there. Saw you pull over and thought maybe something was wrong.”
“Not a thing,” I said as if I were not being held against my will by a convicted murderer who also happened to be the son of the most evil being in the universe.
“Glad to hear it. If you need anything, come on in.”
“We will, thank you so much.”
I zipped the window closed as raincoat man trudged back to the convenience store with a wave. I smiled and waved back. What a nice guy.
As soon as he was inside, I turned to Reyes. Aware of his pain now, I could feel it assault him in hot waves, and again I fought the empathy that threatened to overcome my generally annoyed mood. I pointed to the blood. “What happened?”
“You.”
“Me?” I asked, surprised.
Lowering the weapon, he settled farther down into the passenger’s seat. “You fell asleep.”
Oh, damn, I did. “But what does that have to do with—?”
“It seems every time you fall asleep, you draw me to you.”
“So, it’s my fault? I do it?”
He focused pain-filled eyes on me. “I’m bound. I can’t go to you now without you summoning me.”
“But I’m not doing it on purpose.” I was suddenly very embarrassed. “Wait, what does that have to do with your being wounded?”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked.
He opened his eyes to me and said, matter-of-fact, “Because you’ll run if I don’t.”
“No, I mean, why did you escape?”
He frowned. “They wouldn’t let me out otherwise.” Another pained expression flashed across his face.
I glanced down. The dark coveralls were drenched in blood, and a gasp escaped before I could stop it. “Reyes—”
An aggressive knock on my door made us both jump. The knife was at my throat instantly. The wounded animal indeed.
“If you try anything—”
I ground my teeth. “Seriously?”
“Dutch,” he said, a warning in his voice.
“I won’t.” Even if I’d been brave enough to fight him, the knife was simply too close, too menacing for me to do anything foolhardy. Not that foolhardy wasn’t my middle name.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Dutch.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Then don’t make me.”
The persistent knock sounded again.
I reached over to unzip the plastic window, and he pressed the knife deeper into my skin.
Leveling a steady gaze on him, I explained, “He’s not just going to go away. I have to talk to him.”
When he didn’t respond, I reached over and unzipped the window, but just a little. It was still pouring out. That’s when I felt Reyes’s thumb across my lips and looked back, startled. He lowered his intent look to my mouth, let it linger for half a second, then bent his head and kissed me. I knew instantly what he was doing. Who would question two lovers taking advantage of the weather?
The kiss was amazingly gentle. Liquid and warm. His tongue slid across my lips and I opened them, giving him access, permission to deepen the kiss. And he did. He tilted his head and dived inside, his mouth scalding against mine. Irony at its finest. This was the first kiss we’d actually shared in the flesh, the real deal.
Without thought, I raised my hands to his chest, solid and blisteringly hot. A steely arm snaked around my neck and pulled me into him. Despite the unhurried tenderness of his actions, his muscles were rigid, poised to strike should the need arise.
I could not mistake this for more than what it was. As heavenly as it felt to be wrapped in the arms of Reyes Farrow, to feel his mouth on mine, the courts had declared him a murderer. More than that, he was desperate. And desperate men did desperate things.
“Guess you two have things under control.”
Startled, I broke the kiss off and glanced over to see an elderly man in a bright yellow slicker chuckling at us.
“Personally, I’d have gone for the backseat, but that’s just me.”
I turned to the face framed within the window opening, and felt the pressure of a blade at my throat, angled so the man couldn’t see it. As I flashed my best smile to the man practically drowning outside my window, I felt another wave of pain wash over Reyes and the knife tip pierced my skin. I flinched when it drew blood. He immediately eased up.
“I’m sorry,” I said to raincoat man, my voice unsteady. “We were just taking advantage of the storm.”
“I understand,” he said with a huge grin. “You might want to pull over a little farther. Never can tell in a storm like this what other drivers’ll do.”
“Thank you. We will.”
He looked at Reyes, studied him a moment, then turned back to me. “But everything’s okay?”
“Oh, sure,” I said as Reyes sank down into the passenger’s seat. He probably realized he was hovering over me like an escaped convict might hover over a hostage. But that could just be me projecting. Lowering the knife to my rib cage, he pressed it into my jacket to let me know it was still there. He was so thoughtful.
“Everything’s fine,” I continued. “Thank you so much for checking. Not many people would brave such a storm.” I glanced up at the rumbling sky.
“Well,” he said, smiling sheepishly, “I’m at the store over there. Saw you pull over and thought maybe something was wrong.”
“Not a thing,” I said as if I were not being held against my will by a convicted murderer who also happened to be the son of the most evil being in the universe.
“Glad to hear it. If you need anything, come on in.”
“We will, thank you so much.”
I zipped the window closed as raincoat man trudged back to the convenience store with a wave. I smiled and waved back. What a nice guy.
As soon as he was inside, I turned to Reyes. Aware of his pain now, I could feel it assault him in hot waves, and again I fought the empathy that threatened to overcome my generally annoyed mood. I pointed to the blood. “What happened?”
“You.”
“Me?” I asked, surprised.
Lowering the weapon, he settled farther down into the passenger’s seat. “You fell asleep.”
Oh, damn, I did. “But what does that have to do with—?”
“It seems every time you fall asleep, you draw me to you.”
“So, it’s my fault? I do it?”
He focused pain-filled eyes on me. “I’m bound. I can’t go to you now without you summoning me.”
“But I’m not doing it on purpose.” I was suddenly very embarrassed. “Wait, what does that have to do with your being wounded?”
