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Savannah lunges for her car door, jerking wildly on the handle.
But it doesn’t open, and it won’t until I choose to open it for her.
“Quit,” I tell her.
She doesn’t.
“Quit it!” I shout, trying to break through her panic.
While she keeps trying, her sobs turning to hiccups, I keep hold of the steering wheel with my left hand and lean across, snagging both her wrists in my right.
She screams, the sound nearly deafening in the enclosed space.
“Jesus, woman!” She almost dislodges my grip, so I tighten my hold. “Just fucking chill!”
Her struggle only intensifies, and I have to tug her hands toward me, pulling her half over the center console to get her contained.
Using my forearm to pin hers down, I keep her hands gripped together in my lap. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable for her, but if she makes me wreck my favorite vehicle, I’m gonna be pissed.
Stomping on the gas, I fly through a yellow light and aim for the entrance to the freeway.
“Remember what I said about shooting anyone that comes to help you?” I grit out, and she finally quiets. “That goes for the first responders, too. So, if you make me crash, I’m gonna have to start picking off first responders, and you’re going to be the proximate cause of death for a lot of people.”
She goes limp, dropping her chin down, her forehead touching my arm.
I’ll admit that it’s maybe been too long since I’ve gotten laid, because this contact is starting to get to me. And feeling her shudder, with sobs, against me shouldn’t be stirring…things.
Blissful silence descends inside the vehicle. Until it’s broken up by a metallic hum, and soft sound of something popping.
“Are you really making fucking popcorn right now?” Nero doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to since the increased popping replies for him. I sigh. “Do we have a crew nearby that can take care of a body?”
“If you’re in the city I can have guys there within thirty. Did anyone see you?”
“Other than my kidnap victim?” I deadpan. “No. No one saw me.”
He makes a grunt of approval that annoys me. Nero might kill more regularly than I do, but it’s not like I’ve forgotten how to do it.
“Do you need somewhere to take her?”
His question makes me grind my teeth. “No.” I’m not bringing this little beauty queen to one of our holding cells.
“Alright, then where are you headed?” The microwave beeps alerting that the time is up.
As I hesitate to answer, I feel Savannah tense under my hold.
“Home.”
CHAPTER6
Savannah
Home.
That word echoes inside my skull.
He’s taking me home.
This answer feels a lot like his handsomeness… I don’t know ifhomeis better or worse than the alternative.
