one that’s on our side, so I can’t fault you there.” She sounds a little high-pitched. She’s probably freaking the fuck out. And why shouldn’t she?
“Out of curiosity, did we cross any mobsters last night?” I ask.
“Right after the strip club fucking, right before the skinny dipping, and maybe sandwiched in the middle of our blackout drunk quickie wedding? Gee, let me check my calendar, I’m sure I’ll find it wedged right in there,” Julia snaps.
I give her a little bounce on my knee. That’s sexier than I thought it would be and . . . fuck, I’m hard again.
“You two are strangest hostages we ever have,” one of the mobsters says.
“Where the fuck are you taking us?” I snap. The guy says nothing, but, wonder of wonders, I start to work a hand free. Fuck me, yes. It’s not much, but if I need to, I can untie myself.
For the moment, I sit tight. This is the one element of surprise I have, and I’ll be damned if I give it up too soon.
Julia lies back against me, her head finally cradled against my shoulder. “I suppose we should be a little more helpful to each other right now,” she says.
Helpful’s good. Helpful will probably not get us killed. Her lying against me now, it’s comforting. I shouldn’t have been thinking about how she clearly must have made this happen. I don’t remember much of last night any better than she does. Apparently I can be incredibly impulsive when I have a few too many drinks in me.
“I’m sorry I implied this was all your fault,” I mutter. “For all we know, I’m the one who landed us in this situation.”
“Thanks, Mr. Wexler. Nice to know you’re not a complete dick,” she drawls.
Give some people an inch, man.
We ride in silence, until, finally, the van stops. My heart starts pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins. This is it. I hope to God they take the hoods off, because otherwise this is going to be fucking impossible.
I hear the van door slide open, and two of the men talk to each other. Julia is pulled out of my lap. She gives a yelp, like she’s in pain, and instantly I want to rip people’s heads off. I rise to my feet, banging my head on top of the van roof. Cursing, I snarl at them.
“Where are you taking her? Are you all right? Julia?” I call. She doesn’t answer. Oh, shit. “Julia?”
“Calm down, hero man. We take you see her now,” one of the men says, strong-arming me out of the van.
I’m tempted to pull right out of my fucking ropes and give them a surprise, but not yet.
Wait. You’ll know when the moment presents itself, Wexler.
My feet hit the ground, and I can feel the sun on my back. The men shove me forward at least ten paces until they finally force me to stop. Then one of these jackasses rips the sack from off my head, and I’m left blinking in the light.
Around us, there’s only desert. Red mountains in the distance bake in the hot sunlight. The highway that stretches before us is dead. We’re alone. The wind whistles by, and it’s so quiet I can hear the blood working in my ears.
Julia’s standing right next to me, her blue eyes the widest I’ve seen them. That’s pretty damn wide. She glances over at me.
“Did they hurt you?” I ask her. It comes out as more of a growl. Despite the playing it cool game, if any of these fuckers tried anything—
“I’m awesome. As always,” she says, scanning the four—no, five—balaclava-wearing assholes surrounding us.
Impressive. With her purple lace bras and Doctor Who phones, at first I’d have pegged Julia as the type to curl up into a ball and plead for mercy from these scumbags. Instead, she’s facing them down with a look of steely resolve. I like a woman with backbone, and I’ve never seen more nerve than this.
I don’t need another hard-on right now.
“All right,” the biggest, burliest masked asshole says. He takes out a Glock and points it at us. “What you have to say for yourselves?”
Now is not the time to
“Out of curiosity, did we cross any mobsters last night?” I ask.
“Right after the strip club fucking, right before the skinny dipping, and maybe sandwiched in the middle of our blackout drunk quickie wedding? Gee, let me check my calendar, I’m sure I’ll find it wedged right in there,” Julia snaps.
I give her a little bounce on my knee. That’s sexier than I thought it would be and . . . fuck, I’m hard again.
“You two are strangest hostages we ever have,” one of the mobsters says.
“Where the fuck are you taking us?” I snap. The guy says nothing, but, wonder of wonders, I start to work a hand free. Fuck me, yes. It’s not much, but if I need to, I can untie myself.
For the moment, I sit tight. This is the one element of surprise I have, and I’ll be damned if I give it up too soon.
Julia lies back against me, her head finally cradled against my shoulder. “I suppose we should be a little more helpful to each other right now,” she says.
Helpful’s good. Helpful will probably not get us killed. Her lying against me now, it’s comforting. I shouldn’t have been thinking about how she clearly must have made this happen. I don’t remember much of last night any better than she does. Apparently I can be incredibly impulsive when I have a few too many drinks in me.
“I’m sorry I implied this was all your fault,” I mutter. “For all we know, I’m the one who landed us in this situation.”
“Thanks, Mr. Wexler. Nice to know you’re not a complete dick,” she drawls.
Give some people an inch, man.
We ride in silence, until, finally, the van stops. My heart starts pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins. This is it. I hope to God they take the hoods off, because otherwise this is going to be fucking impossible.
I hear the van door slide open, and two of the men talk to each other. Julia is pulled out of my lap. She gives a yelp, like she’s in pain, and instantly I want to rip people’s heads off. I rise to my feet, banging my head on top of the van roof. Cursing, I snarl at them.
“Where are you taking her? Are you all right? Julia?” I call. She doesn’t answer. Oh, shit. “Julia?”
“Calm down, hero man. We take you see her now,” one of the men says, strong-arming me out of the van.
I’m tempted to pull right out of my fucking ropes and give them a surprise, but not yet.
Wait. You’ll know when the moment presents itself, Wexler.
My feet hit the ground, and I can feel the sun on my back. The men shove me forward at least ten paces until they finally force me to stop. Then one of these jackasses rips the sack from off my head, and I’m left blinking in the light.
Around us, there’s only desert. Red mountains in the distance bake in the hot sunlight. The highway that stretches before us is dead. We’re alone. The wind whistles by, and it’s so quiet I can hear the blood working in my ears.
Julia’s standing right next to me, her blue eyes the widest I’ve seen them. That’s pretty damn wide. She glances over at me.
“Did they hurt you?” I ask her. It comes out as more of a growl. Despite the playing it cool game, if any of these fuckers tried anything—
“I’m awesome. As always,” she says, scanning the four—no, five—balaclava-wearing assholes surrounding us.
Impressive. With her purple lace bras and Doctor Who phones, at first I’d have pegged Julia as the type to curl up into a ball and plead for mercy from these scumbags. Instead, she’s facing them down with a look of steely resolve. I like a woman with backbone, and I’ve never seen more nerve than this.
I don’t need another hard-on right now.
“All right,” the biggest, burliest masked asshole says. He takes out a Glock and points it at us. “What you have to say for yourselves?”
Now is not the time to
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