CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
MADDOX
Drivers turn into dipshits on holidays. The roar of impatient engines and disgruntled honking harmonizes with my summer-day driving playlist. There’s even the distinct crunch of metal upon metal somewhere in the distance—the unmistakable marker of an accident. But none of that sullies my mood.
My view is too enchanting.
Tessa empties a Pixy Stix into her mouth, her tongue peeking out and her plump lips smacking together. The sight is nearly crippling.
I am gone for this woman, still not fully recovered from my anxiety yesterday or from how untethered it had me.
My mild pity party over being on her lists aside, the fact that she crafted an I Know What You Did Last Summer letter to fuck with me only has me more captivated. I nicknamed her Nightmare for both her Zero-in-the-attic answer and her truculent nature, and I stand by that. Her sinister is sexy.
I’m sick. And she isn’t the cure for that sickness. She’s the goddamn virus, infecting me more every day. But I can’t get enough.
I want my name tattooed all over her body so no one can ever question who she belongs to.
We finished packing last night, though she was wiped out after that hotter-than-hell blow job.
She passed out an hour or two before I finished getting things set for her to move into La Lune Noire today.
Then I climbed in beside her, molded my body around hers, and slept in a bed that wasn’t my own but felt like the home I hadn’t realized my soul had been craving.
So, yeah, I’m utterly fucked.
Mainly because I’m still not sure she’s falling with me.
This morning, she was more herself. Confident and sassy, but also a bit guarded.
I’d relieved her stress by waking her up with my head between her legs and the promise to adopt that as our morning ritual.
Her response was enthusiastic. I can still hear my name spilling from her lips as she rubbed her sweetness over my tongue.
But her walls went up as we got ready to head out.
I’m aware that once she settles in, her family shunning her is going to wreak havoc on her psyche and any progress we’ve made.
We’re en route to the resort, and she’s in good spirits, so I’ll let the rest go. For now.
Of course, as that resolve envelops me, she glances at her phone and frowns.
I squeeze her thigh, sweeping my thumb over the creamy skin beneath her shorts.
She’s dressed far more casually than normal, with her hair in a ponytail—because it’s ninety-seven degrees with a humidity of eighty percent and we lugged some of her boxes down to the car.
Thankfully, the guards packed the rest of her belongings in their vehicle, so it wasn’t too brutal.
It’s the Fourth of July, so traffic is terrible. Several streets are blocked off. We’re taking back roads, and even those are clogged more than normal.
When she finally grants me her attention, I ping-pong mine between the road and her gorgeous, albeit solemn, face. “What’s got you upset?”
“Nothing,” she says quickly—too quickly—as she flips her phone over.
I stop at a red light, leaning over the center console to curl my fingers around her neck and seize her mouth.
She relents immediately, claiming me right back.
Her hand glides over my cheek, cupping my face, and something about that translates her tentativeness into forever.
Still, every swipe of her tongue is a lash of both her hopes and her fears. I’ll gladly share them all with her.
A sultry purr escapes her, and a rumble stirs in my lungs. Maybe I should pull over. We’re a good eight minutes away with this congestion. That’s an eternity to keep my hands off her.
I have to remind myself that I’ll have her with me all the time now, so I can wait fifteen minutes and worship her properly.
Anywhere I want. Endless possibilities. While she slept yesterday, I ordered some new items for my private Magie Noire room.
The vision of all the ways I could welcome her into her new home makes the wait bearable.
Releasing her lips with one last languid swipe before the light changes, I grip her chin as my gaze meanders over her radiant face. “You taste like candy and lies.”
She laughs as the light turns, and I drive forward, but she doesn’t discredit my accusation.
We both know she’s holding back, keeping things from me.
I’m about to press the issue when my attention snags on a black Ford Raptor with beefy wheels in my rearview mirror.
It’s desperately trying to get around the other cars, weaving in and out to force them to squish to the shoulder.
I veer as far left toward the opposing lane as I can to get a better glance at the line of cars behind us. Maybe it’s nothing, probably just an asshole who wants to get to a picnic on time. But there’s an uneasiness settling in my bones.
When I notice Kane’s vehicle is gone, I’m no longer convinced that I’m leaping to conclusions. My gut wrenches.
“What’s going on?” Tessa asks with a fair amount of panic.
She’s obviously learning to read me. Impressive since I’ve got sunglasses on, blocking my eyes.
“Recline your seat and lie down for me,” I order as I hit Kane’s number on my phone.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Lie down?” she parrots. “Why?”
“Just do it, baby.” My tone is so eerily serene that she does it, but she meets resistance.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Two more trucks join the brigade, all three pushing the traffic out of the way.
“You have to move the seat to its farthest forward position, then recline it,” I instruct her as I grab my pistol—a Beretta 92FS Inox—from the console and click the safety off. I’m not really a gun guy, but knives don’t work from inside a car.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Goddammit.
Once she’s flattened herself below the window without further protest, I take a breath and end that call. I hope Kane isn’t fucking dead. Keeping my eye on the rearview mirror, I flip through my Contacts, pulling up Liam Graves.
While I’m waiting for him to answer, I tap Tessa’s hand, which is fisting her phone. “Call Cash. Tell him we have a tail and that Kane is gone.”
“Yeah?” Liam clips out, and an infant’s wailing fills our car. He must be holding his buddy Gage’s month-old son.
“Sorry to interrupt baby duty, but I’ve got a tail. Three black trucks. A Ford Raptor and similar models. My security disappeared. Just sent you my location. I’m in heavy traffic. It’s about to break, and I suspect we’ll be surrounded.”
“Give me a minute,” Liam says as all hell breaks loose.
Traffic disperses, Tessa puts Cash on speaker, and the trucks floor it.
And so do I.
Motherfucker.
Cash’s voice is prattling, Tessa is filling him in, there is background noise from Liam’s house, and horns blare as cars scatter in several directions to avoid the monster trucks gunning for us.
I’m not sure who the fuck is listening, so I just start rattling off my moves, listing the roads and directions as I maneuver between crowded lanes and up over sidewalks and lawns.
I’m off track for the resort, not exactly sure of this area anymore, and they’re gaining on me because this sporty car isn’t meant to be taking such uneven terrain. I need a breakaway.
“I’ve got a road up ahead. If I take it and do a one-eighty to throw them off, can one of you get me the fuck out of here?”
“I’ve got you,” Liam drawls calmly. “We’re gonna run interference, but there’s a hell of a lot of shit going on today. You’re gonna have to last for a few.”
I swerve around a beat-up Honda Accord, scaring the shit out of a lady, my back end fishtailing as I veer into an abandoned convenient-store parking lot that is angled with the curve of the road, and dip out ahead of a few other cars I was stuck behind to reach the upcoming turnoff.
“Fuck,” Tess and I hiss in unison at the shitstorm we’re headed into.
She’s hoisted up on her elbows, attempting to get a better glimpse.
“Lie back down,” I order her before explaining what we’re up against to everyone else. “I’ve got four cops up ahead.” At least one of their sirens sounds as I peer in the rearview mirror again. “And the motherfuckers are gaining on us. Fuck the one-eighty. Get me out another way.”
“Two are ours,” Cash chimes in. “I’m gonna let Graves handle your route, but I’ve got positions on all the five-O we own.”
“Send that to me and contact the two in sight,” Liam barks to him before directing me. “Take the next right. You’ll be drawing the heat with you and headed into another standstill traffic situation. But there’s a driveway that will get you out.”
“A driveway,” Tessa wheezes, but no shame.
I’m right there with her. If our escape hinges on a driveway, our outlook is grim.
“Axel is assembling a team to meet you, but that’s only a backup plan. Twenty minutes out at least,” Cash informs us as I careen onto the next road, barreling past a party with vehicles parked too far into the road.
“I am certainly drawing the heat,” I grit out, feeling them encroaching on us, and if it wasn’t plain before that we’re being chased by people intent on killing us, the sight of those trucks practically running the policeman off the road in order to reach us makes it crystal clear. “How far to the driveway?”
Of all days to be driving a cherry-red sports car. No chance of blending in.
“You’ve got a half mile,” Liam begins. “On your left. It’s a circular drive, in front of a two-story colonial, but it splits off at the east corner and dumps out onto a perpendicular side street.
There’s a bend before it. If you open her up to put some distance between you and your company, they probably won’t catch on … unless, well, we’ll have to see.”
“I’ve got it.” I jump into the opposing lane to get around a caravan of SUVs, hoping they’ll provide some coverage.
The drivers wave their arms and lay on their horns, but they’re left in our dust in seconds because I’m up to well over a hundred. Too fast for a turn.
“What if there are people outside at the house or in the driveway?” Tessa asks.