A steely calm permeates every inch of the tiny plane. The blur of rich, green foliage has taken form. The motherfucker should’ve had me transported to Antarctica or the Sahara, maybe. If I had the emotional capacity of awareness, I’d notice one thing. My final resting place is breathtakingly beautiful. Crystal blue skies reflect on a peaceful lake. The very definition of Mother Nature.
The motherfucker didn’t think this through. Then it dawns on me:
This is all about the mind fuck. At leasthethinks so.One of us will die, Abductor Dude, and it might not be me.
I smooth the devious grin from my face as the door to the cockpit opens. Theidiotawho pretended to befriend then choked me is in for a rude awakening. Just wait. My abductor has met his match.
The false confidence in my soul takes a hit like a punch to the chest. Fear crawls up my throat at the sight of the man commissioned to end me. Warring thoughts consume my psyche:
How long will I endure torture?
No, Ava, you will fight this asshole until your dying breath.
A formidable force appears, clothed in leather and jeans. The fabric runs taut over broad shoulders and corded muscles. At the opening of his jacket, a shirt full of holes displays a dark dusting of hair. Crawling over his collarbone are the beginnings of elaborate tattoos. His hair falls over his shoulders in thick, black waves and obscures my view of his face.
I need to see his eyes.
While at a disadvantage, I’ll start by reasoning with him. If I sense any sign of humanity, I’ll blab like a bird.Tweet. Tweet. I grew up on the streets of Los Angeles. I dodged ICE. I focused on my education. School districts are required to provide youth with an education without reaching out to government officials. So, I was street smart and book smart. I ate breakfast and lunch at school, even in high school when it was deemedunpopular.I was street smart beforehim.
My captor shoves a few thick, long fingers through his hair. I force down the hatred of how those powerful hands controlled my throat some time ago.
Our gazes clash. The man’s wolf-like irises, so dark and predatory, pluck the frayed strings of my soul. My stomach pitches at the thought of being subjected to this sick, twisted man.
Though he’s a few paces away, his smoky gray eyes are intense. It feels as though he has a physical grip on my body.
Heart fluttering in my throat, I think fast.
I make a decision.Suck it up, buttercup.I’ll beg for my life now because ultimately, it ishimwho will pay later.
4
Kieran
“Please, please, let me go.You don’t want to do this . ..” She tosses out the same line I gave her upon our first introduction. “You don’t want to do this.”
“But I do.” I crouch down, head tilted, and shove aside the notion of how quickly my cock is swelling. The sound of her voice, her body, it’s all tempting to unravel me. To cave to her imploring. And that ain’t happening.
“What’s your name, lassie?”
Irritation sparks in her eyes.
I place a thoughtful hand on my chest. “Let’s commence our relationship, open. I discarded your purse. Now, I’ve a change of heart. You’ll want to keep your first name, I’m sure.”
“The fuck do you want from me?” she grits.
An easy smile rides my lips. “I’m not gonna cuss at you, lassie. Oh, you’ll be wanting to get your lick in, yeah?”
A hint of red stains her light brown cheeks. “My what?”
“I placed my hands around your neck, like so.” I position my hands, interlocking my fingers about her neck as she tries to no avail to push away. “I squeezed. You have my word on Clan McFarland. I’ll not hurt you—anymore. I’ll learn to have a better way with my words. Okay?”
Her plush lips pull tight. “You a psycho? Is something not connecting up there beneath all the hair?”
“Oh, the hair.” I grab a fistful and grip the knife from the back of my belt. As she sucks in air, I make quick work of cutting my hair. The dark strands curl around my ear, and I bite back the stream of cuss words. Feck, Kieran. This is what people do in a relationship. Nan MacKenzie said it was all about compromise.
Pivoting the blade of the knife in the bonny lass’ direction, I ask, “You like that? Because I like you—just the way you are.”
A beat later, she demands, “Let me go. Now.”