Chapter 4 - Mara #2
I shift in my seat, pull my coat tighter around myself.
“That you kill for sport. That you run in packs and attack anyone weaker than you. That you don’t care what happens to the people in your way.
” I know I sound like a pamphlet, but I can’t help it.
My hands are shaking, but I hope he thinks it’s from anger.
He doesn’t say anything for a minute, just stares at the road before replying, “Sounds a lot like your hunter friends.”
I don’t answer. I keep my eyes on the window, but I can feel the heat rising in my face. He’s right, but I’m not going to admit they’re not my friends.
Something about the shape of his hands on the wheel, the way he holds himself so still, makes me want to throw something at him, just to see if he’d even bother dodging. Instead, I take a deep breath and try to slow my heart. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.
“You got a name?” he finally says.
I weigh whether to tell him or not, but finally decide it doesn’t give me any leverage for him not to know. “Mara.”
He nods, “Mine’s Cade.”
I don’t bother replying to that; I already knew, because I heard them talking before I got dragged off the roof. I know who all the alphas in the mountains are from my research, so I already know his territory is going to be hard to escape from without a vehicle.
“So, what are you going to do with me?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Haven’t decided yet. Depends on whether you’re actually with them or just a pawn they wanted to get rid of.”
That makes me laugh, sharp and ugly. “You think if I were with them, they’d have given me away so easily?”
He glances over, a glint of humor in his eyes. “And yet they did. You haven’t tried to escape and run back to them yet.”
“Maybe I’m waiting for the right moment.”
“That’s smart,” he says, and I can’t tell if he means it or if he’s just humoring me.
Finally, I sigh and try a different tack. “I’m no one. No one to them and no one to you, so just let me go and I’ll head to a different city. Deal?”
He grips the steering wheel even tighter, and I hate myself for noticing the way it makes the muscles in his forearms flex.
I hate the way I find that simple action so damn hot, so I force my eyes back to the road, hoping the way the silence is stretching on means he’s thinking about it. Thinking about letting me go.
“I don’t think you’re no one,” he finally says. “I think you’re someone, and them handing you over was weird. And intend to find out who you are and what they’re up to. We have an alliance to stop the Order, and I’m going to figure out what you know. End of discussion.”
I can’t help the scoff that escapes my lips or my quiet rage as he laughs at me. Actually laughs at me. “You didn’t think I’d go to all that trouble just to let you go, do you?”
I know a warning when I hear one, but I’m also good at gauging risks, and right now there’s a sliver of hope in the way he’s watching the road, not me.
He must think I’m a coward like the rest of them.
Or maybe he’s used to being obeyed, to the point where he can’t imagine anyone would try something with him at the wheel. That’s his first mistake.
We’re past the city now, into the switchbacks where cell service drops out and the only lights are the headlights burning into a tunnel through the pines. I’m staring into darkness, and I know once we hit his territory, I’ve got no chance.
He’s faster than me, obviously. But he’s also big, and big men are always a little slow on the pivot. I time the move for when he’s checking the rearview, and I lunge for the door handle, wrenching it open so fast the dome light floods the cab, hopefully surprising him.
He reacts far quicker than I hoped, but I’m half launched out of the cab on the corner when he clamps his hand around my ankle.
Not a gentle grab; he’s got enough strength to break it, and for a second, I think he might.
Instead, he yanks me back into the truck’s cab, hitting the brakes and slamming the door with his other hand so hard the whole frame rattles.
“Jesus fuck,” he growls. “Are you insane?” He’s on me before I can think, pinning my wrists to my thighs, his face so close I can see the flecks of gold in his irises. For a second, neither of us moves. His breath is hot as a furnace on my cheek.
I twist, but there’s no give. “Let go of me,” I hiss.
“Not until you stop acting like a lunatic.” He’s furious, but there’s something else in his voice, something that feels like panic, and it’s not for himself.
I try to jerk my hands free, but the movement just brings our faces and bodies closer together, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of how I’m practically in his lap, my thighs pressed against his.
His scent hits me and makes my head spin.
I try to glare at him, trying to look dangerous, but all I feel is the wild, erratic beat of my heart.
He shakes his head, almost laughing. “You’re not going to last ten minutes out here in the woods; there’s all sorts out there.”
“It can’t be worse than you. I’ll take my chances,” I say, low and mean, but he’s barely listening.
He lets go of my wrists, but only so he can grab my jaw, forcing my head to tilt up so I have to look at him.
Stupidly, the action makes my stomach clench, but not with fear.
I try to shake the feeling away, but something flashes in his eyes, and my cheeks burn because I have a horrible feeling that he knows.
He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t; instead, he leans past me, pressing further against me. A small groan escapes my lips, and I curse myself again. When he leans back, I realize he’s holding some zip ties.
“Noooo,” I try, but it’s too late; he has my hands fastened to the console in seconds.
“I was going to be nice, but you’ve made it difficult,” he says, restarting the engine. “Do you make things difficult a lot?”
“I’m going to make your life hell,” I snap, enraged at him, myself, and the whole damn situation.
He laughs, actually laughs, at me again. “Of that, I have no doubt.”