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Carson will handle the perps. You process the van.”
She cuts a slitted glower his way. “What? Are you afraid I can’t handle them?”
“That’s, quite frankly, the very opposite of what frightens me, Bonds.” He levels her with a cool look. My skin flames as something unsaid passes between them. “I know you can handle them just fine.”
After a few tense seconds, Sadie’s the one to relent. The wounded draw of her eyebrows reveals her surrender. “Just… Take care of her,” she says, tossing Quinn’s coat at him. Without another word, she heads off to meet Carson at the van.
As Quinn leads me toward the other car, I say, “You hurt her feelings.”
His low groan isn’t meant to be heard, but I can feel it rumble through him. “It’s complicated.”
I scoff. “That’s an understatement.”
He turns a sharp glare on me. “Whatever you think…” he trails off. “Forget it. We should be focused on getting you out of here. Were you…hurt?” he asks, a hesitant tone breaking through his concern.
I shake my head, wobbling a little as the ground rocks. “No, I wasn’t. But that’s complicated, too.”
He stops abruptly and faces me. His hands cup my cheeks, lifting my gaze to his, and my breath stutters. He angles my head back as he gives me his own, personal examination, his thumbs tracing the contours of my skin.
A shiver races through my body. I move into him, desiring his touch to brand me—to travel lower, exploring every inch of me. Slowly and meticulously. The way I know Quinn would.
I tremble as his rough fingers inspect my neck, the warmth of those hands that just issued a brutal punishment now feel tender—but I know the strength behind them.
A moan slips past my lips, and his hands fall away. “Don’t stop,” I whisper.
With a low growl, he scoops me into his arms and shouts an order at Carson. “Keys. Now.”
I glimpse the confusion on Carson’s face as we pass, but he does as instructed. He digs out his keys from his pocket and tosses them at Quinn. I snake them out of the air with a wicked smile.
“Taking me somewhere private, detective?” I ask.
His mouth presses into a hard line. “Yes. Your very own private hospital room.”
He opens the car door with me still in his arms, then sets me in the passenger-seat. “We really need to stop this routine of you carrying me to cars, Quinn.”
I’m surprised when a small smile lights his stern features. He rounds the car and slips into the driver-seat. As he buckles himself in, he says, “Are you hurt? In pain? Anything happen at all that—?” He stares at the wheel, a severe furrow creasing his forehead.
I lean toward him. “Nothing happened that you need to worry about. Maybe if this was the first time I was abducted…” I say with a shrug. “But by comparison? This was a pretty lame attempt on my life.”
He doesn’t seem to like my answer, and turns the key with more strength than necessary. Like he wants to tear the damn ignition off.
“Relax, Quinn.” I rest my hand on his shoulder. The feel of hard muscle beneath my palm has my fingers working to ease his tension. His hand seizes mine, and he moves it to the console between us.
“Avery, if they hurt you…you can tell me.” His eyes find mine then.
“I’m fine. I promise,” I say, which is true. Any pain I might be in is dulled by the numbing effect of the drug. “In fact, all I need is my bed to sleep it off.”
Pulling onto the road, he takes off in the direction that is the exact opposite of my house. “I’m not taking any chances,” he says resolutely.
Then, against all logic trying to seep past the drug rushing my system, I do something so out of character that I would cringe at myself if I could. I actually hear myself whine. My body struggles against the seatbelt strap, the restraint intolerable. I cross my legs, tighten my thighs, applying enough pressure to sate the sudden onset of need.
Here it comes.
Panic laces my mind, and any rational thought evaporates. As the drug begins to crescendo, all inhibitions fly right out the window.
“Stop the car,” I say, a frantic hitch in my voice.
“Avery…I can’t.”
