Page 34 of A Captive Situation

I was shivering now. That’s what happens when you’re running during the early-morning hours when it’s still chilly. If I made it out of this, I’d probably get pneumonia.

I didn’t want to think what Aunt Clara would have to say to that. Or Bess. My mom would just shake her head. She never understood why I ran in the first place. My mom was a bit old-school.

“Are you done?”

I screamed, whirling around.

Jake materialized from behind a tree, and that asshole, he looked smug and all warm and comfortable. Maybe a bit irate, as his smirk transitioned to a glare. Ooh. His eyes flashed at me. He was angry, real angry. He snarled, and I noticed he had stopped to formulate a plan before he went after me. He was dressed all in black. Black coat. Black pants. Black shoes. He was even wearing black gloves, and in one hand was a handgun.

I swallowed. Why did that gun look so much scarier than it had before?

I eased back a step. “I had to try.”

“No!” He stalked toward me. “You didn’t.”

Oh. Oh no! He didnotjust yell at me.

My chest puffed up. I was about to yell back, except—I turned and fled. It was more a reflex because he was hella scary as he was coming for me, but before I could take more than a couple steps, he was on me.

“I don’t think so, princess.”

“No!” I yelled, battering at him. “And don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want,” he growled, cutting himself off as he swiftly wrapped something around me and lifted me up. I tried kicking at him, but he maneuvered me around so my feet could move, but they couldn’t hit anything.

Jesus. Fuck. I hadn’t even noticed him carrying anything.

I began wriggling around, turned upside-down and facing away from him.

I had no idea how he was doing this. “Agh! No fair.”

“What part of being kidnapped do you think is supposed to be fair? Stopfuckingfighting.”

“No!” I flailed with more oomph, but to no avail. I was hitting air. I didn’t even know where his head was at this point. “Put me down! I’m going to vomit. I just ran three miles.” I was guessing.

“Whose fault was that? I told you not to run. Told you it was seven miles. And you ran a little over a mile.”

I groaned. “Way to rub it in.”

He snorted, starting a trek through the woods. He wrapped his arm tighter around my legs, and that’s when I realized he had me around his back, like I was some sort of toddler. What—it was kinda genius, and comfortable, but I couldn’t move.

“I don’t like you.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

I opened my mouth to argue.

He said, before I could get one word out, “I took you for your safety. I didn’t kidnap you for sick pleasure.”

“Yeah, right.” I snorted. “I’m sure that’s what every kidnapper says to themselves when they’re doing the kidnapping. It’s called trying to justify your habit.”

He tensed underneath me, turning to cement. A low rumble started from low in his chest. “I’m not justifying shit. It’s the truth.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself so you can keep that pep in your step. You told me yourself that you’re not a good guy. Now I’m supposed to believe you? Yeah. Sure. You were tying me up for my own good.”

His sarcasm was just as strong. “And look at you, proving me wrong right now. Way to go. You’re being super logical.”

“If I could bite your ass, I would.”

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