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It was also in the exact opposite direction to where I asked him to take me, to where I had a car parked, full of everything I had taken from Hailstorm and all the supplies I'd packed for my new life.

"Are you seriously fucking kidnapping me right now?" I asked, eyes lowered as I sat in my seat, half facing him, arms crossed over my chest.

"Yep."

This couldn't be my life.

First, I royally fucked up my plan. I had no idea if Lex Keith was dead or alive. Second, I didn't get the hell out of dodge. Third, I was being kidnapped by someone I once fought alongside.

"I swear to Christ, I am going to kill you when you stop this car," I said, mostly meaning it. I wasn't stupid enough to risk my own life by beating the hell out of him while he was behind the wheel. But all bets were off when I wasn't risking violent, metal-pierced vehicular death. To this threat, I got no reply. Likely because he thought it was bluster. I imagined being a living, breathing hot-guy equivalent to the giant at the top of Jack's beanstalk made the threat of bloody death from a girl who could barely tip the scale into the triple digits on a good day dismissible if not outright laughable.

He was in for a rude awakening.

I was pissed. As in... seriously pissed.

I wanted blood.

And since I couldn't have Lex Keith's, well, I was okay with having his. At least some of it. Whatever amount I could get before he took me down. I was under no illusions. There was no way I could actually take him in any kind of fight, not even if he just stood still and let me wail on him. I'd probably break my own hands before I caused any kind of damage to him. But that didn't mean I didn't want to unleash a bit of my frustration on him.

I mean... who took someone somewhere against their will anyway? Even if maybe he was trying to do the right thing and get me away from the cops who would definitely take the burn on my arm as some incriminating evidence. And, well, if they got my clothes into a lab, they'd find a lot more than a trace of bomb and Molotov cocktail residue.

Maybe I should have been thankful to him. He obviously had his head on straight when he offered me a ride. I had been losing my shit on the side of that road.

But that being said, I didn't need to be holed up in his shack in the woods. I needed to be getting the hell out of town. Christ, what if that Josh guy decided to rat me out? The further away I was, the better. I might have been risking my relationships with everyone I cared about by doing what I had done, but I wasn't exactly keen on the idea of being trapped behind bars for the rest of my life.

Wolf turned the truck up a driveway that was steep enough to require you to take it on foot or by some other behemoth with huge traction like his truck. I guess that was why he left his bike at The Henchmen compound.

"You planning on chaining me up?" I asked, uncomfortable with the lingering silence as we drove up the long lane.

Wolf's gaze cut to mine for a second and I could have sworn he almost looked offended. "No."

"Then you can't keep me here," I decided, looking away out the windshield.

"Okay," he said in a tone I didn't trust, like he knew something I didn't know.

The driveway seemed to twist forever, secluding us deeper and deeper into the woods, the treetops long barren. Despite myself, I actually felt myself relaxing. There was something soothing about knowing you are somewhere that no one would look for you or find you. Especially after all the reckless and unforgivable things I had done that night.

Wolf finally pulled his truck up beside a small cabin, looking like it couldn't have been any bigger than an average loft apartment inside.

"Do you even fit inside that?" I asked, meaning only to think it, but there it was... all out there.

To this, Wolf made some sort of snorting sound that I took for amusement when I glanced over and saw his honey-eyes dancing. "Come on," he said, swinging out of his door and bleeping the button to undo the child-locks.

Without much choice, I followed, the jump down from the cab making me feel like a little kid when I landed hard, the impact ricocheting up my legs. When I looked up to see him standing beside his door, lips twitching, I lowered my eyes at him as I approached. "Not all of us can be Paul Bunyan," I bristled. I stopped in front of him, planting my feet wide and craning my neck up to look at him. "If my arm wasn't throbbing like a mother right now, I'd make good on my promise. As it stands, I need to get cleaned up and down some pain medicine. But don't think I forgot about it. It wouldn't be very smart to fall asleep around me right now."

There was more lip twitching and he nodded his head at me, acknowledging my threat the way a parent acknowledges their child's proclamation that they are Superman when they tucked a pillowcase into the collar of their pjs like a cape.

When he said nothing, I sighed. "So do you actually have indoor plumbing in this place or is this a cop a squat behind a bush kind of situation you have here?"

There it was again, the lip twitching. Apparently everything I had to say amused him. I found myself both annoyed and flattered by that realization. Annoyed because nothing I said was meant to be funny, especially the parts where I threatened his life. And flattered because, well, no one ever laughed at me and because I knew Wolf was not the kind of man to find amusement easily. He was one serious dude.

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