Another shot fires, catching my attention.
“Zeek!” the girl screams again, her voice in pure panic. He looks toward her, his eyes catching mine. He tucks his gun in his waist band and starts to jog toward us, passing the girl who's grabbing at his shirt frantically.
“What the fuck, Zeek?!” she cries, as he clearly ignores her and heads toward me. Oh, shit! Fear strikes me and I turn to run inside, finding the glass door suddenly locked. Someone from the inside shut and locked it.
Hands grab at my hips as I ball mine into fists. Screaming, I turn and throw a punch, but I miss and my world is tossed upside-down. Pushing myself up on a strong back covered in a leather cut reading 'Sin City Outlaws,' I look over my shoulder, finding Zeek carrying me.
“Put me down!” I holler, slamming my fists into his back hard. He doesn’t even grunt with the impact.
“Fucking stop it, I’m not going to hurt you!” he shouts, and my assault stops. My mouth parts, eyes widening in confusion. Is he saving me? “But you keep fucking trying to hurt me, that might change!” he continues, pulling at the door, trying to enter the house.
“The door is locked,” I inform him.
He turns, running around the patio toward the side of the house, spotting the girl, who looks pissed as hell. Her hands are on her hips, mouth fallen open with disbelief.
“Fucking run, Dolly!” Zeek snaps at her. Her eyes land on me, her bitch face in full force, before turning to run.
Jogging past the house, we make it to the vehicles.
“You can put me down now!” I sneer. I need to find Alessandra, need to phone this in.
He doesn’t listen, just tightens his hold on me.
“Zevin Deluca, I demand you put me down now!” I shout, my voice heavy with authority. He laughs and slaps my ass. My eyes widen. I want to be angry, but pleasure ripples between my legs as adrenaline races up my spine.
He strides to a black truck and opens the passenger door. He doesn’t allow me to get in, though—no, he tosses me in the front seat. My body starts to feel lighter, the alcohol setting in.
“Don’t try and get out!” He points at me, his voice laced with so much fury I just nod.
He runs back toward the house, whipping his gun from his waist band. I should get out, run as fast I can. Looking out the front windshield, I spot Alessandra getting in a car. Opening the door, I stand on the floorboard, pushing me above the doorframe.
“Alessandra!” I holler, nearly losing my balance before I grip the door to catch myself. Her head snaps in my direction, and her face floods with relief.
The guy yanks at her hand and she looks back at him, lust clearly written on her face. She holds her finger up to him, like she’s telling him to hold on, and runs toward me.
“What are you doing? Come with us.” Her eyes search the truck cautiously. I go to take a step down and boots thud behind me, catching my attention.
“I said not to get the fuck out.” Zeek grabs the door, his tone angry.
“It’s okay, I’ll take her home,” Alessandra states, plastering a fake smile.
“I got it.” Zeek eyes her with that look that could make a gargoyle shrink back in fear. Alessandra’s eyes find mine, and the guy she was with hollers for her.
“You’ll be okay?” she questions more than states, the guy behind her revving the engine. I look at Zeek, not sure if I will be okay.
“She’ll be fine. I’m just taking her home.” The words come out hard, and not very reassuring. I want to get down and run, but the look on his face says I wouldn’t make it far.
Alessandra nods and runs back to her guy friend. My body stiffens, fear striking me now that I know she’s gone.
“How do I know you’re not going to hurt me?” I ask Zeek as I watch Alessandra get in the car and drive away. He takes my hand off the door, ushering me inside.
“You don’t, but I don’t see another option for you right now, do you?” I bite at my bottom lip in thought. “Get in,” he demands. I look over the cab of the truck, not convinced I should be getting in it with him. Another shot rings out as I contemplate my next move.
“Get in, damn it!” He shoves me inside the truck and shuts the door.
He strides around the back of the truck and climbs into the driver’s side. My hands shake as they grip the door and dash.
“What was that? Why were you guys shooting at each other?” I ask, knowing I’m asking questions he won’t give me the answer to. He just starts the truck and hightails it out of there. We bounce and jump with the rough terrain. Finally reaching the pavement, the ride evens out.
“Why were you there? Why?” His tone is furious, almost threatening. His arms flex as he turns the steering wheel, his body seeming huge in the small seat. I was scared before, but now, I’m just terrified.
“It wasn’t my idea, I assure you,” I curtly reply, looking out the window.