“It wasn’t covered in our contract.”
A contract she was now wondering if she should have signed. She wasn’t putting up with this shit anymore. Life was too short to engage in petty games. She’d thought Jake was better than that, but obviously he wasn’t. She’d gone for a ride on a motorcycle, so what? It was her body, her choice, her life.
And right now, it was her choice not to be in the same place as the arrogant, always-does-the-right-thing sheriff. She started heading back the way Duncan had gone, towards town. She marched down the road, muttering to herself. She didn’t have a chance in hell of making it back to town but she had her phone and when she got her temper under control she’d call Savannah.
It was nice to have friends to call on when the man in your life was being a dick.
“Molly! Molly, where do you think you’re going?”
Like she was going to answer him. Besides, she figured it was obvious—away from him.
“Molly, you will stop. Now.”
She raised her hand and flipped him the bird.
Did she seriously just give me the finger? He forced himself to take a deep, fortifying breath as she strode down the middle of the road. What was she doing? She didn’t seriously think she could just walk all the way into Haven, did she? And why wasn’t she walking on the side of the road where it was safer?
Damn female was a mix of wisdom and brains and sheer, utter idiocy. She was obviously angry with him for sending Duncan off on that deathtrap she was driving, but did she honestly believe he’d allow her to ride around on that? Anything could have happened to her. She could have had an accident. She could have ended up in a ditch, injured and alone, and he’d have had no idea where to find her.
Jake closed his eyes. After Duncan left, he’d needed a few moments to get his roiling emotions under control. He knew this was a trigger for him. Rebecca’s death had just honed his need for making sure those around him were safe. His job had only increased that need.
And then Molly had come along. He was attracted to her, he’d claimed her, and he was learning just how little command he had over her. What had gone through her head when she’d borrowed that thing? She couldn’t possibly think he’d be okay with it. Hadn’t they talked about safety last night?
But maybe she hadn’t realized he was serious about that. Or perhaps she didn’t think what she’d been doing was dangerous? Well, she was going to find out now. As soon as he caught up to her. He sighed as he noticed her approaching a bend in the road. Soon she’d be out of sight. And was she . . . yep, she was limping. Cursing himself for forgetting about her weak ankle and wondering if she hadn’t been entirely honest about how well healed it was, he climbed into his car and safely turned it around before driving off after her.
She didn’t even turn around. Just kept walking. He climbed out of the car. “Molly, this is silly. You’re not walking back to town. You’re limping. Get in the car.”
She whirled around, and he frowned when he saw how upset she was. He noticed her blinking rapidly and wondered if she was she close to tears. The thought of it was like in the kick in the gut. She was always so happy, so together. Even last night when it was clear she was really upset, she hadn’t cried. So why did this bring her to tears?
“Now I’m silly! I’m an idiot and silly. Wow, I’m a real winner, huh?”
“I did not call you an idiot and I said that walking off, especially when you’re in the middle of nowhere and you’re limping, was silly. You want to tell me why you stormed off like that?”
“No.”
Guess he’d asked for that one.
She turned away. Oh, no, they weren’t doing that again. He poured as much command as he had into his voice. “Molly, stop.”
She stilled. Thank you, God. He didn’t know what he would have done if she’d kept going. Probably have grabbed her and thrown her over his shoulder. But he was glad it hadn’t come to that. A kidnapping charge wasn’t a good thing for a sheriff. He walked up to her, facing her. He reached out and grasped her chin, tipping her face up. “I can see we have quite a few things to address, sub. But, first, you’re going to get in the car and off that sore ankle.”
“It’s fine,” she muttered.
“From now on, those two words are stricken from your vocabulary, do you understand me? Your ankle is not fine. You are not fine, and you insult me by trying to pretend you are.”
“How is that an insult?”
“It is my job as your Dom to take care of you. I can’t do that if you’re dishonest with me. Unless you’re planning on breaking the contract we signed last night.”
“How does that have anything to do with this?”
He looked down at her in confusion for a moment.
“That contract is about playing together, right?”
“Much of it is,” he agreed. “But there’s a clause in there about your safety, remember that? My job as your Dom is to ensure you are happy and healthy. I can only do that if you communicate with me. If something happens to you, then I need to know. If you’re sick or hurting, I need to know. How else will I take care of you?”
She frowned slightly. “I’m not sick or hurting.”