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“Get on my back then,” he insists.
I take off running toward Kirby’s. The world is waking up, and we both look like characters from a horror show. Heavy footfalls fall in line with me, and I know without looking he’s frowning.
My lungs begin to burn. My cheeks heat. Sweat breaks over my skin. I slow to a jog. “We’re almost there. Come on,” he urges. I groan, picking up my pace. The soles of my feet burn like Satan is lighting a fire beneath them. With our body count tonight, he probably is. My car comes into view, and I sag in relief.
Whipping his tee off, Zane says, “Unlock the doors.”
“I didn’t lock them.” My gaze drops over his blood-stained skin, the ink moving with his actions. Damn, I hope we get to fuck again soon. Naked next time. “The keys are in the car.” I wave my hand toward it.
“Lily!” He shakes his head like I’m crazy.
“Where would I have put them?” I spread my arms wide, gesturing down my body.
He rounds the hood and gets in the driver’s side, shaking his head again when he pulls the visor down and the keys slip into his hand. Opening the passenger door, I fold into the seat and drop my head against the rest. “I could sleep for a week.”
“Let’s shower first.”
“Together?” I bite my lip.
“You read my mind.”
I open the center console and pull out my cell. It lights up with million missed calls and a barrage of texts. “Shit.”
“What?” Zane asks, kicking the engine over and pulling out of Kirby’s.
“My brother has been blowing up my phone all night.”
Bro: Where the hell are you?
Bro: Get home now.
Bro: Answer your damn phone, Lily.
Bro: The whole club is looking for you.
Bro: Monroe is freaking out. At least tell me you’re safe.
I flit my fingers over the screen, typing out a text.
All is good. I’m fine. Met someone. Going on a road trip.
The phone rings immediately. “Fuck my life.”
Clicking the icon, I answer, my voice saccharine sweet. “Yes?”
“I know who you’re with, Lily. Get your ass home now. Tell Zane he has one chance to do the right thing.” Jameson’s tone is deadly. A zap of apprehension climbs up my spine.
“What’s the right thing?”
“To fucking bring you home.”
I end the call and tap my hand against my leg, avoiding Zane’s glare.
“What did he say?”
A beep alerts me to an incoming text. Opening it up, my stomach twists.
“What is it?”
