“Oh, now you care? Weren’t you just shooting at me?” He shakes his head. “I’ll never understand women.” His sarcasm is not lost on me, but I ignore it. When someone you care about is hurt it apparently sets your ill feelings aside giving fear a front row seat. I think that’s how you know if you really love someone, if you can put your differences away to focus on your significant other’s well-being. “And, hell no to the hospital, it’s not safe,” he adds, pulling me from my thoughts.
“You need to be seen, Zeek, something critical could have been hit.” Sliding over I peel up the sleeve of his shirt and see a bullet wound biting into the flesh of his arm. It’s bleeding profusely. Pulling his arm up I inspect for an exit wound, hoping the bullet went clean through, but there’s nothing.
“I got it under control, calm your tits. Damn!”
I arch a brow, my mouth falling open, offended.
“Did you really just say that to me?”
He shrugs, bending down he pulls up a greasy red rag from the floorboard. Using his knee he steers the truck, and wraps the dirty rag from the floorboard around his bicep. Using his teeth and one hand he ties it tightly around the wound.
A groan vibrates from his chest, his eyes squeezing shut.
“You sure?”
He adjusts himself in his seat, taking back control of the wheel. “I’m sure. Drop it.”
Knowing he didn’t hit an artery and isn’t dying, my anger floods my fear, and I scoot back to my side of the truck. He’s such a dick.
My stomach growls loudly, and Zeek turns his head toward me, glancing down at my stomach. I’m surprised he heard it with the loud radio playing “Hideaway” by Daya. A song that is making me see things for the first time.
“You hungry?”
I don’t answer. I don’t need a damn thing from him. Unless he’s going to let me go, that is. My poor mom, I bet she’s a wreck right now. I wonder if she’s doing okay. I wonder what Alessandra is thinking knowing I’m with Zeek…and on the run?
“We’re going to have to stop at some point. We need to eat, come up with a plan.” He’s talking to himself at this point, because I’m now looking out the window, acting as if I’m ignoring him. I’m lost in my thoughts of Alessandra and my mother. I hope one of them feed Jinx while I’m gone. “Not talking to me is just going to piss me off.” He growls, his voice deep and angry.
I huff, and roll my eyes. “And I could care fucking less,” I mutter under my breath even though I wanted to yell it at him, but honestly I made sure he didn’t hear it. You tend to tread lightly when you’re riding shotgun to a murderer who kidnapped you and handcuffed you. The truck suddenly makes a distressed clunking noise, throwing Zeek and me forward in our seats as the vehicle dies. Zeek’s face narrows in confusion as he eyes the dashboard.
“Shit, it’s out of gas.”
“Nice grand theft auto skills.”
Slowly turning his head he lifts a brow at me.
“I didn’t see you coming up with any options back there.”
My mouth falls open as I nod. “I did, actually, it’s something your kind isn’t familiar with though. It’s called turn ourselves in. Remember that?”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” His tone is talking down to me, and it’s pissing me off more than I already am. He opens the door and slams it behind him. I contemplate just sitting here, seeing how far he walks before noticing I’m not with him. But I’m the one in cuffs, in the middle of nowhere.
“Shit!” Frustrated, I open the door and climb out, jogging to catch up to him.
“You’re right, I don’t get it. How the hell am I just supposed to believe I can’t go back and explain my innocence? Alessandra is practically my sister; she would have my back—I know it. Not to mention, who the hell is going to feed my cat?!” He ignores me, his eyes focused forward as his boots stomp along the dirt road. “You know what I think it is, you’re using me to save yourself!”
He turns, pinning me with a stare that stops me in my tracks and causes me to swallow hard. His hair is sticking to his face, his tan skin glistening with beads of sweat from the night’s humid air. It’s like the dirtier he gets, the hotter he gets.
“That is where you’re wrong. The only reason I’m here right now is because of you. Otherwise I would be back in Vegas taking my club back. Do you get that? Do you get that I chose you over saving my club?”
I suck in a sharp breath, my eyes searching his face for any indication that he’s lying.
“You’re—” I stumble on my words, not sure how to banter with that. “But my father, Lieutenant Oaks, you…” I trail off, so confused right now.
He runs his hands down his face, clearly agitated with me.
“I told you, I didn’t know who he was to you, Jillian. He was dirty though. You need to understand that. Do you get that?”
I can’t stop the tears from filling my eyes. “No, I don’t get that. It doesn’t make any sense at all, so why don’t you explain it?”
“Dirty is dirty, Jillian. It doesn’t matter now.” He shakes his head. “We need to keep moving, I don’t have time to explain this over and over to you. I can’t penetrate your naive little brain any more than I have.” His Adam’s apple bobs, and he grips my cuffs, pulling me after him.
“Why do you have to be such an asshole!?” I yank back on the cuffs to get his attention.