Dare to Love (Maxwell #3)

“For fuck’s sake. I’m not going to the Russian mob. I’m not marrying Kelton.” Although I always thought I would. “And, like you, my business is my own.” I jumped out of the car, slammed the door, and started for the street. I didn’t have time to discuss my life, and I didn’t care to. Plus my bladder was screaming at me now. Before we turned onto this street, I’d spotted a gas station at the corner. I headed in that direction.

Three-tenement houses dotted the neighborhood, and cars were parked along the curbs. I had no idea where I was or how to get back to the hostel. I shoved my hands inside my jacket, tucked my chin to my chest, and set my sights on the Chevron station. Not surprisingly, the area was quiet at one in the morning. The bright lights of the main thoroughfare shone in the distance. Maybe I could get a cab back into the city or find the “T” after I used the ladies’ room. As I walked, I blew out all the anxiety that had built up inside me, and with it a lone tear escaped. I brushed it away, but all I wanted to do was curl up in my bed and have a good cry. But wallowing in my sorrows wasn’t going to get me my money back. Maybe I could seduce Terrance Malden into giving me what was mine. I scratched that idea. He’d probably use me and still take off with my million dollars. I could use a knife to threaten him instead of a gun. I could also take his son as a hostage. Now I was getting somewhere, although it would be easier to threaten Zach with a gun.

I smiled at my newfound plan. I’d cozy up to Zach, get him into a place I could hold him hostage, then call his father and demand my money. If I did that, the cops would be involved. I would get arrested. On the other hand, if Terrance stole my money, he was breaking the law, too. So he wouldn’t involve the cops. Either plan involved a weapon. I had to turn around and make nice with Dillon. Well, after the gas station.

I was a block from the bright Chevron sign when a car’s engine rumbled. I squinted at the headlights as the car wheeled slowly down the street toward me as though the driver was searching for a particular house. I was crossing over a driveway when the car braked in the middle of the street.

“Hey, darling, do you know where I can find Dober Street?” a deep male voice asked.

I kept my sights on the lighted sign, increasing my pace as the hackles on my neck rose. Maybe walking alone at the wee hours of the morning in an unknown town wasn’t such a great idea.

You think? I silently screamed at my inner voice just as someone wolf-whistled.

Taking longer strides, I peeked over my shoulder. A guy wearing a knit cap was hanging out of the car window, watching me. Beyond his car, I spied another vehicle coming toward us. With the bright lights in my face, I couldn’t make out if it was Dillon’s car or not, and I wasn’t hanging around to find out. When I turned back, I noticed a ring of rocks around a tree in the yard I was passing. I hastily grabbed one before continuing in the direction of the gas station.

A car door shut, and two men argued while footsteps pounded the pavement. My adrenaline spiked, flooding my body. A male figure got closer. Instinct told me to run, but my screwed-up stubbornness wanted to throw the rock that was securely in my hand. In one beat, I whirled around and threw.

The man ducked, shouting, “Fuck, Elizabeth!”

“Dillon?” Dillon’s body came into view.

“Girl, if you had a gun, I’d be dead.” He bit his lip, his wavy brown hair blowing in the wind.

I snarled then spun on my heel for the gas station.

“Wait. Where are you going?” He ran up to me.

“I have to pee.” And puke. Then down a bottle of moonshine to coat my nerves.

He laughed. “You can pee at my house.”

Crossing the street and into the lot of the gas station, I snorted. Hearing Dillon say the word pee was funny. He came off as a pierced, long-haired badass. “Your house isn’t this close.” I pointed to the store. “Who were those guys in that car back there?”

“Two morons trying to cause trouble. Rafe took care of them. Don’t worry. You’re safe,” he said as he nodded to a man filling up his gas tank.

He’d rescued me again. It was odd for me to have a guy I barely knew and who wasn’t the law protect me. The last time anyone saved me was an off-duty cop. I’d been out with girlfriends at a club in Miami when I got separated from them. I was about to take a cab home when two men jumped out of a car and grabbed me. If it weren’t for that off-duty cop, I wasn’t sure I’d be alive. My heart warmed at how Dillon cared.

I darted into the store and hurried down a short hall in the back. Once in the bathroom, I quickly emptied the contents of my bladder. After I washed my hands, I splashed water on my face then glanced at myself in the mirror. Christ, I was losing my tan after just a week of being in the freaking cold. Either that, or the week had caught up with me, making me as white as the sink. The paleness of my skin made the dark circles beneath my grayish-blue eyes stand out like a raccoon’s. I needed to sleep for a month. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not when I had work to do. I grabbed a paper towel, patted my face, then wiped my hands.

Once outside, I found Dillon with one foot pressed to the building, reading something on his phone. Snow started to fall.

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