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He came awake with a roar. Slapping her aside, sending her face first into the ground. Beau panted, swiping the blood from his lips, spitting a glob of congealed red out across the silvery gray rock. He gained his feet, stumbling once. Shaking his head hard once, twice, his palm smeared brilliant crimson down his cheek.
“Oh, you are going to pay now. What the fuck did you say to them?” Beau didn’t want a reply. Grabbing Devin’s arm, he pulled her behind him, dragging her across the gravel when she stumbled.
Slamming Devin over the hood of the car, he fished keys from his pocket. The heavy thump of the trunk opening held no warning before Beau spilled her inside the black box. Leaning into the tight space, he brought the scent of scorched cinnamon and copper. “One word out of you, and I swear to the Gods, I’ll really make you wish you were dead.”
Devin writhed as he slammed the trunk closed. The roar of the engine too loud, the pings of rock hitting the undercarriage as the wheels spun before gaining traction deafening her. She slid over the rough carpet as the car lunged forward, tearing open wounds both new and old. Jerked from one side to the other with every reckless turn, she barreled into the backseat with each hard stop.
No matter how hard she tried, there was no staying silent. She was lost in the chemical haze, her wanton moans and frustrated cries echoing in the dark space alongside her whimpers of pain.
It seemed to go on forever.
So grateful when the car shrieked to a halt and the trunk opened, she didn’t complain when Beau flipped her out onto the wet asphalt. Arm caught in his bruising grip, towed behind his furious strides, everything smeared together into a bewildering muddle. Lights were too loud and music blinded her. Shrill laughter skittered around her brain, violence and hot ash a film on her lungs. Devin fell to the floor the moment Beau released her, clawing at the sticky planks for something solid to hold onto.
“That’s… interesting.” A husky voice cleared away some of the chaos, giving Devin something to grasp at.
“Want to make a deal, Rip?” Beau’s voice added to the maelstrom, discordant and vile. Cutting through the chaos to demolish the one thing that stood out.
Heavy boots pounded against the floor, the thick leather well-worn, smelling of grease and oil appearing between her curled fists.
“Step into my office.”
* * *
