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Reese leaned back and kicked the window, tossing shattered fragments into the wind and spilling the rest over the seat.
Craige cursed. The car swerved. Reese made a dive for the window. A hand closed on his ankle, and he kicked with his other foot. The impact sent a dull throb up his leg. When the vice grip restraining him didn’t let go, he did it again. Freed, Reese crawled out the window as the car slid to a stop.
Reese rolled off the trunk, landing on his side. Rocks and grit sandpapered his chin and cheek. He ignored the burn and took off. A car door slammed closed behind him, and he kept running.
Thick arms closed around his waist, and a heavy weight slammed him to the ground, knocking the air from Reese’s lungs.
“That was a very stupid thing to do, Dr. Dante.” Craige’s hot breath burned the shell of Reese’s ear.
He tried to buck Craige off him but only wound up grinding his ass against the man’s crotch. Sharp points left burning lines on the side of Reese’s neck. Pleasure shot through his core, and wet heat soaked the front of his sweatpants.
Craige purred. “Would you like a little more?”
Reese tried to say no, but he was so shocked he’d actually come, he couldn’t form the word.
“I tell you what, I’ll let Dalton drive, and you and I will spend time together in the back seat. Start a little early. Get the edge off. Would you like that?”
Another scrape of teeth dragged a moan from Reese’s throat.
The weight holding him down disappeared, giving Reese the chance to run, but like his mouth, his legs wouldn’t obey.
Craige hauled Reese up and threw him over his shoulder. He made a feeble attempt to fight, but whatever gave him the drive to escape morphed into the desperate need to be closer.
Dying grass swished against Craige’s ankles as he carried Reese back to the car.
“Dalton, you’re driving.”
Another door opened and closed.
“Dr. Dante and I are going to get to know each other better on the way to the airport.” The rear passenger door opened, and Reese found himself on his back on the seat. Craige crawled over him. “Would you like that, Dr. Dante? My mouth on your dick, my dick in your ass. You think my teeth felt good? I’ll make you come till you can’t walk. Fuck, I’ll make you come till you don’t even know your goddamned name.” He didn’t look up when he said, “Dalton, let’s go. Need to get out of here.”
The driver’s seat remained empty.
“Didn’t you hear what I said? Start the fucking car and let’s go.” Craige turned.
A hard crack sent a spray of blood over Reese’s face and left his ears ringing.
Craige yelled and tumbled out of the car.
Dalton stood a few feet away, gun raised.
Blood seeped from between Craige’s fingers, where he held his hand against his neck. “I’m going to fucking kill you for that.”
“No you won’t.” Dalton squeezed off shots, plugging Craige in the face. He hit the ground and Dalton re-holstered his sidearm as he seized Craige’s.
Black strands spiraled over the missing half of Craige's face. Dalton took out what could have passed for an EpiPen from a pouch on his vest and jammed it in the man’s leg.
Craige pushed himself to his feet only to fall back to the ground. Black snaked around the partially healed wound, leaving yellow-green bruises in their wake.
“What—?” Craige coughed up a mouthful of black blood.
Ichor. He was purging the ichor.
Fear twisted the anger on Craige’s face into a mask of panic. Again, he tried to stand.
Dalton walked over.
“Are you okay, Dr. Dante?” He offered a hand.
