Roni glanced over her shoulder to the large windows that looked out on the parking lot. Sure enough, two vans were blocking the driveway as several journalists milled about talking to customers who had left the store. She felt her heart jump in her chest, her palms moistening with fear.
She checked the collar of her shirt to be certain it hid the mark on her shoulder. She sure as hell didn’t need anyone to see it now.
“Yeah, they’re a nuisance, all right.” She shot John a commiserating smile. “Let’s hope they let me out of here soon. I wanted to fix that truck by nightfall.”
She wanted to get the hell out of here and hide. Being in such close proximity to the vultures ready and eager for the latest news sensation was nearly too much for her nerves. Especially knowing her father.
She lowered her head as she pushed through the exit, heading to the car she had parked on the lower end of the lot. She didn’t want her face caught in a roving camera’s eyes, or have one of those stupid microphones pushed under her nose…
“There she is!” The shout rang out as she headed along the side of the building.
Roni had a second to feel a surge of sympathy for whoever they were targeting before she was grabbed from behind and jerked around, the collar to her shirt pulled aside with such force it ripped.
Terror surged through her like a tidal wave as hard hands held her, faces flashing before her eyes, and the microphone was shoved in her face.
“Who’s your mate, Veronica?” The fanatical eyes of a hungry journalist met hers as she fought to tear herself free. “Who marked you? Are you in heat? Have you been tested?” She screamed out in fury as her flesh protested the grip on her arms, the sweaty male bodies surrounding her. She dropped the bag and her purse as she began to claw, to fight.
“Tell us, Veronica, who is he? And what’s it like to be mated to an animal?” Fractured voices, raised in both protest and demand, echoed around her as she kicked out at the journalists, clawed at the hands holding her, fighting desperately to be free, to escape.
She was unaware she was crying, unaware of the camera catching every whimper, each hoarse scream that echoed around her. Her vision was dazed, blurred by fear and fury and the overwhelming instinct to fight.
Roni heard the material of her shirt ripping as she finally tore free of the rough hands holding her. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t look back, she just ran. She didn’
t know in which direction she was moving, didn’t know where to go, who to run to. Her only thought was escape.
“Roni.” John O’Brien’s voice ripped through the panic as she passed the side of the store. “The truck.
Back here.” He waved her over frantically, his face pale, his light blue eyes glittering with fury. “Son of a bitch leeching reporters. Come on.”
The crowd was surging behind them as he threw open the door to the parts truck and she jumped inside.
She pulled the panel shut, locking it as several cameras and microphones were thrust against the windows.
The heavy truck jerked as John slammed it in gear, lurched and began moving forward as reporters and hungry curiosity seekers attempted to block it.
“I’ll run over your damned asses,” John yelled out, his usually pale face flushed with anger, his red hair standing on end as he swiped his fingers through it and pressed his foot to the gas.
They bumped over a curb, tore through several yards and a pristine fence that enclosed the insurance offices.
“Son of a bitch, there goes my policy,” John cursed, though excitement sizzled in his voice as he took a narrow alley, the truck increasing in speed, tires screaming as he turned on to one of the back roads that led out of town. “You okay?”
She stared back at him, confused, shaking, her stomach rioting with fear as she shook her head and blinked over at him. What the hell had happened? Her skin was still burning from the unfamiliar touches of the men who had held her, protesting the contact, screaming out for Taber.
She shook her head, fighting for a semblance of control. Dear God. They knew.Reginald had wasted no time at all in selling her out, she thought.
“Take me home.” She winced at the hoarse sound of her voice, the pain that was reflected in it. “I need to go home.”
“They’ll be waiting there, Roni,” he told her softly as the truck’s motor surged, pushing the vehicle up a steep road that wound around the cliffs outside town. “You need to hide for a while, figure out what you’re gonna do.”
“Going to do?” she whispered brokenly as she rubbed at her arms, trying to free her flesh of the remembered feel of another’s touch. Dear God, what was she going to do? Her father had moved faster than she expected. He had to have already sold her out before showing up at the house.
She couldn’t go home. John was right. They would find her there. They would invade the house. There was no way she could hide from them. But what else was left?
“I know a place,” John finally sighed. “You’ll be safe there for a while, if they don’t catch up with us before we get there. Everything’s going to be okay, Roni, at least until we can contact Callan. And you know you have to contact him.”
He flashed her a hard, demanding look. His eyes still gleamed with the rush of the chase, adrenaline glittering in his gaze.
No, it wasn’t Callan she had to call, Roni thought. It wasn’t his fault. It was Taber’s and by God, Taber would pay. Her hands clenched as fury surged through her, nearly as hot as the arousal that often left her weak and helpless. If she managed to get her hands on him she would kill him. And her senseless, mercenary father would be the next one to go.