Chapter 25
Lily
My life had just been swept into a toilet.
Worse. A cesspool of mud, blood, and something sticky like… mayonnaise.
The insane moment was spiraling out of control in my mind. I simply could not believe I’d allowed myself to act like some wanton woman in the middle of making dinner.
A food fight of all things.
Then hot… sex on the kitchen island? Blasphemous.
The use of mayonnaise? A clear indication I needed a vacation.
Being photographed buck naked? Every woman’s nightmare. If the bastard posted a single photograph, the internet footprint would follow me for the rest of my life. For every job interview. Every family gathering would be disastrous. My parents would never be able to look me in the eyes again.
As bad as all the jagged pieces of my life seemed, the worst part of all was how Saint had lifted the cameraman. He’d picked the guy up like he weighed nothing and the man had eaten one too many cheeseburgers with a double helping of French fries.
As strong as I knew Saint to be, no one was that strong. Not unless he was… Oh, God. My stomach was in knots.
“How do you think we’re getting out of here? Our vehicles are parked outside. Remember?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as he raced down the stairs with a huge duffle strapped to his back.
“I have several vehicles. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Mr. Wealthy and Arrogant.”
“Hey. What’s wrong with having a few toys?” He grabbed both my bags with one hand and I didn’t bother suggesting I could handle my own luggage. He wasn’t going to listen to me and I certainly now knew he could carry a lot more weight.
Just how much was the terrifying part.
He’s a big, bad wolf.
The thought was instantly driven from my brain. Ridiculous garbage.
“Where are we going? Not to my place. A hotel? They’ll just camp outside our room. Two rooms.”
He chuckled and pushed me toward the kitchen, stopping just outside the entrance. After ducking his head in, he groaned. “We’re surrounded. To answer your question. We’re going to the only safe place in the city.”
“Are you sure there is such a place?”
“Yeah, I’m positive, but you’ll need to trust me. Just crouch low to the floor and follow me. Take my hand. I’ll get you to safety.”
I stared down at his outstretched hand, debating briefly before accepting the gesture. If I’d known my life was going to turn into a complete disaster, there was no way I would have agreed to take the job. At least I didn’t think so.
Yet my mind was like a sieve as he gripped my hand. I crouched low as he requested, fighting to keep from bursting into laughter as we rushed into the kitchen toward a door on the other side.
Somehow, the dozens of reporters who were standing outside saw us, immediately shouting and banging on the door. Why not just break in?
By the point we were in the garage, I couldn’t hold back the laughter.
He grinned and opened the door to one sleek-looking sports car. “Your chariot awaits.”
“You’re not going to run them over, are you? I don’t think there’s a chance in hell I can spin dead bodies into a suitable Instagram post.” I climbed in, wondering how his huge body fit inside the cramped space.
He leaned over with the same wicked expression I’d grown to tolerate.
“Trust me,” he said. When he dared press his lips against mine, I shuddered. The same electricity we’d both experienced before was just as incredible.
And just as caustic.
“Said the spider to the fly,” I mumbled.
He seemed almost giddy, which was entirely ridiculous.
He tossed the bags into the tiny backseat before jumping inside.
While the engine roared, he pressed a button on a garage door opener.
I expected the door in front of us to open, revealing the reporters in masses.
Instead, I noticed movement in the side mirror. Twisting in my seat, I realized there was a false door in the back of the garage. Clever. He threw the gear into reverse, offered me one last salacious look and pressed on the gas pedal.
The centrifugal force was instant. Moaning, I struggled to secure the seatbelt as he flew from the garage, doing a one-eighty spin on the spot and flooring it.
I assumed there was some sort of pathway, but if there wasn’t, he didn’t seem to care. He shifted into another gear, whizzing by trees with limbs slapping both sides of the car.
“Holy shit. Where did you learn how to drive?”
“Believe it or not, from my mom.”
“Yes, I would believe it.”
His laugh was more boisterous than before.
Within a couple of seconds, he pressed another button and a gate opened.
My guess was that the opening was hidden like the second garage door.
When he hit the road, he skidded slightly, enough so he twisted the steering wheel and had the vehicle under control in two seconds flat.
“Hold tight, baby,” he said while grinning like some crazed loon.
Horns honked.
Tires squealed.
The man drove like a bat out of hell, maneuvering past several slower vehicles, even running a yellow light.
Meanwhile, I was white knuckled, my grip on the dash hurting my fingers.
I was also holding my breath, fearful of looking anywhere but straight ahead.
While I was fearing for my life, Saint was having the time of his life.
Constantly checking the rearview mirror, I had a feeling the man hungered for a confrontation.
That was so like him.
After another two minutes or so, I found the courage to glance into the side mirror once again. “I think you can slow down. No one is following us.”
“What fun would that be?”
“If you want to make it to the playoffs, living is required.”
He threw me a look and I swear to God the man was pouting. What a big baby. What was I talking about? I had the desire to curl under the covers with my blankie and my teddy bear. This was nothing I was cut out for.
Thankfully, he slowed to just above the speed limit. As with everything else about the man, I needed to make do with just toeing the line. At least I could breathe a sigh of relief even if my hands were still shaking as I reached for my phone.
Terror swept through me, but I had to find out if we were mega stars or has-beens. I shifted to Facebook first. After a few seconds of surfing, I finally swallowed. Nothing there.
Instagram was next. Someone had snuck into the rink during practice, but the pictures were actually damn good.
And hot.
One had even captured me sitting on the sideline, although my face looked like I’d been turned into stone. Oh, well.
Maybe the jerk wouldn’t upload a picture. I was about to switch to TikTok when a ping indicated a new comment arrival. As soon as I clicked on the photo, I sank lower in the seat.
“You trying to crawl into the floorboard?” Saint asked.
“That’s what we both need to do.” I held up the phone so he could see what they’d captured. “The jerk was outside for a long time. I don’t think there’s any doubt what you’re doing to me while I’m lying buck naked across the island or what is being smeared over my body.”
The only good news was that either the panes of glass in the French doors were dirty or his lens was. I doubted he was decent enough to use a filter, but maybe I could have hope. Then again, if he had filtered what he’d popped onto the platform, what would he do on the porn sites?
My skin wasn’t just crawling. It was itching as if I was getting hives. A perfect end to the night.
And we weren’t done yet. I still had no idea where the hell he was taking us. Maybe I hadn’t pressed because I just didn’t want to know. The ache in my tummy was bad enough as it was.
“Sexy, baby. Now, all the world will know what a lucky man I am. My fiancée is dazzling.”
“You do realize we’re not even engaged. Right?”
“Oh, that. You take the fun out of everything.”
“That’s what I was hired to do. Plus, I don’t even have a ring.” I was trying to be funny, but when a passing light showed a gleam in his eye, I groaned. “Don’t even think it. I don’t want a fake bauble under any circumstances.”
“I need to get you a ring. If I don’t, that will seem weird.”
I crouched even lower in the seat. This night just couldn’t get any worse. Not by a long shot.
I was wrong. Oh, so very wrong.
I’d remained in my hidey-hole for as long as feasibly possible. By the time I eased back into a normal sitting position, the city lights of Chicago were nowhere to be seen. In fact, we were on a single lane road somewhere far removed from any buildings, commercial or residential.
I looked all around me, cognizant the road was in terrible condition with potholes and bumps. When he went over one at a higher rate of speed, my head slammed into the roof.
“Ouch. Where are we? Did I fall asleep?”
“I think you did,” he answered. “We’re someplace safe.”
Now I sat forward, glaring out the windshield. “I’m not fooling around here. Where are you taking me?”
“Are you scared? Are you afraid I’ve kidnapped you?”
There were times I absolutely hated his grins. This was one of them. “Should I be?”
“For Christ’s sake, Lily. I’m not some monster.”
Why did he cock his head at a strange angle after he made that claim?
When I remained silent, he tossed me a frown and twisted his hand around the steering wheel.
We were in such a rural area, he had the brights on.
“My… family owns several acres outside the city. It’s been in our family for generations.
We refuse to sell it even though some developers would love to get their hands on the acreage.
There are a few houses built, all on large plots of land. My brother and I own a house out here.”
“Your brother? You mean Steven, the hottest AHL player and considered to be your replacement?”
“Ouch. You know how to gut a man. Yes, that one.”
“We’re going to stay with your brother.”
“Yep.”
Why did I have the distinct feeling he wasn’t sharing everything with me? “Will he be pissed?”
“Better not be or I’ll beat his ass.” He glanced in my direction for a little too long.