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“Arrow!” Jericho barks, his voice snapping out into the night air like a whip, wrapping around Arrow’s wrist and stopping him cold.
A shiver runs down my spine at Arrow's deadly look. His jaw clenches, forcing his veins to protrude. Oddly enough, he waits like an obedient puppy until Jericho speaks again.
“Did they touch you, Little Chaos?” Jericho asks in a low, vicious voice, ready to prowl into the police station, too.
“Touch me?” I ask incredulously, furrowing my brows. “You’re serious right now? They handcuffed me in front of you, shoved me into a police car, and tied me to a fucking table. Of course, they touched me. And you assholes enjoyed the show!” I shout, tearing myself out of his death grip. My eyes scan the psychos standing around me with blank expressions. “So, what are you going to do about it?” I goad, cocking my head, examining the darkening of their eyes, filled with deadly intent.
Jericho steps forward, gently running a finger over my cheek in such a loving manner I almost believe it. Almost. I snap my teeth at him, baring them.
“My feral, Little Chaos.” He grins, not deterred that I nearly bit his damn finger. He grips my chin in a tight hold, gnashing my teeth together.
“I will bite you,” I hiss, attempting to break from his hold.
“I count on it,” he says with a grin. Talk about being feral. It's certainly not me. Stepping back, Jericho eyes Arrow who remains frozen in rage. “Now, Arrow, we'll make sure to address it at our next meeting." Those eyes stare into mine with such intensity that goosebumps spread across my flesh. "But you can’t march into the police station and hang them all without warning. Next time, Arrow. Then you can take them into your special room. Besides, didn’t you have a present for Journey?”
“Present?” I grunt when Jericho waltzes forward without a care. He doesn't even gently tug me along, I'm more like a puppy forced to follow her new master. “Would you slow down, you long-legged asshole!” I shout, tugging at my restraint to halt his speed. It doesn't. He continues to move at his own pace, disregarding me again. “Fucking prick.”
That does it. He halts, turning on his heel, and pulls me into his chest. His free hand tangles in my dried-out curls, yanking my head back.
“I can't wait to harness your defiance.” His nose presses against mine, his eyes glaring holes right through me. “But right now, it's pissing me off. You don't want to piss me off, Little Chaos. You think you're stuck with me now. Just wait.” His lips press into mine with force, grunting when I kick his shin. Those sharp teeth sink into my flesh until crimson coats his lips, glistening like chapstick. He grins, smearing it around with the back of his hand. “You're going to drive me to fucking insanity. Now, get in the car, Journey,” Jericho demands, leaning back. “You're coming home with us.”
“I'm not a stray dog,” I say, licking my lips. “Besides, my momma always told me I shouldn’t get into cars with strangers.”
“Did she also mention you shouldn’t let yourself get filmed while committing several felonies?” Jericho asks with a blank expression. I scowl, attempting to cross my arms. “That's what I thought,” he says with a grin.
Shepp grunts, climbs out of the SUV, and opens the back door, signing something while eyeing me.
Jericho grins back. “We've got something to show you, Little Chaos. Time to take a tour of the town.”
“I don't need a tour of the town. I need my shower and my bed.” Facts. I’d rather go to sleep and forget this mess happened. Maybe when I wake up in the morning, this will all have been a bad dream.
Who am I kidding? I’m Journey West. I’m like a magnet for trouble.
“Later,” Arrow sing-songs, hopping into the back of the SUV. “You're such a good little driver, Sheppy. Ow!” he yelps, holding his stomach. “Asshole, too.”
Shepp flips him off with a scowl, turning back to us and gesturing to the vehicle. Great. Looks like I'm getting dragged into a car I don't want to be in. With men I don't necessarily want to be around. Maybe. They're beyond dangerous. For my health. For my body. They'll destroy me. Leave me raw. I feel it in my bones.
But for some reason, this ache in my chest is pulling me toward them with red flags waving in the wind. Why do I hate them, yet feel intrigued by them at the same time? Like I know them.
Jericho pulls me into the car between him and Arrow with a satisfied grin. His hand falls to my thigh, like it belongs there. I narrow my eyes, trying to peel his fingers off my leg, but it doesn't work. He digs harder, probably leaving thick bruises.
Wonderful. This captivity is going to go smashingly.
“Welcome to the backseat, Kitten. Maybe we can dirty up Jericho’s fancy leather with our body fluids,” Arrow murmurs in my ear, lightly brushing his lips along my neck. His hand lands on my other thigh, squeezing softly.
Humming encases my body the more he touches me. Like he was meant to be touching me at all times. It feels good. Too damn good to have him wrapped around me. My eyes fall shut. What is happening to me? Why am I letting him touch me? Freedom—that’s what it is. A little taste in the midst of chaos and captivity.
“Sure,” I rasp, leaning my body further into his and soaking in his heat. For one split second, I revel in the feel of him. Somewhere behind the crazy mask he wears, I feel the security he could provide for me.
"Off," Jericho barks, shoving Arrow’s body away from mine. “Keep your tongue to yourself.”
Arrow grins wider, settling back. “Later,” he murmurs playfully.
I can't help the laugh that falls from my lips when he wiggles his brows. I blame the delirium from lack of sleep for my outbursts.
“Enough,” Jericho growls, curling his fingers into a fist. “Sheppard, drive us to the first location.”
Shepp blinks and nods from the driver's seat, like a good soldier, and throws the car into drive. The darkened streets of Briar Cove blur by as we make our way through the downtown area.
