Page 23 of Baited

“Ethan, speak Linguish.” She laughed again. Oh god, she was slurring her words. His firm hand clasped her shoulder and shook her until she met his eyes again.

“Focus,” he ground out. “What the hell are you thinking, Riley?”

She winced at the harsh tone of his voice but her surprise quickly turned into a giggle. He cursed and mumbled something she didn’t catch.

“I’m taking you home,” he breathed.

Oh good. The sooner she was alone, and away from Ethan, the better. Heavy weights rested on her eyelids. A yawn broke from her throat.

She was definitely too old for this stuff. She just needed to close her eyes. She rested her head back and let her eyelids sealtogether. Her muscles sagged with every gentle rock and hum of the truck. Ethan’s voice droned on. God, was he still talking? Did the man ever just not talk? Her tongue itched to say this to him, but she lacked the energy. Her body went slack in the warm seat, the low roar of the radio and Ethan’s voice lulled her to sleep.

CHAPTER 7

His knuckles turnedwhite as he clenched the steering wheel. He couldn’t get the image of her out of his damn head. She had to be insane.

It had taken more than an hour to spot her in the crowd. It’d been like searching for a needle in a haystack, but there was no doubt she was there. She’d been half naked like the rest of the youngsters, a revealing black bikini top did little to conceal her cleavage. The gap between the bikini top and her tiny denim shorts left her tantalizing golden skin on display.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’d downed one shot, sipped a cocktail and then a double shot. The slimy bastard had showed her something in his hand and then had taken it himself. A pill. Ethan hadn’t seen her take it, thank god.

Had Ethan not lost them in the crowd, he’d have swept in right then and there. He’d caught a glimpse of them leaving and had jumped in his truck when they pulled out of the grass parking area and followed them to the seedy motel parking lot. He wiggled the stiffness out of his fingers.

Damn, it had felt good to pummel the guy.

Unbelievable. It was all he could do not to shake some sense into her. He pulled into his driveway. Her body moved with every bump. She was out cold. He slammed the truck into park and exhaled on a sigh. Her legs were curled under her, her head rested back against the seat, her face turned toward the window.

He didn’t need this right now. What he needed was to be alone, get his bearings, and figure out his own damn problems. Not babysit.

He reached his hand out to nudge her. The glossy skin on her shoulder was smooth beneath his palm. “Riley, wake up. We’re here.”

Nothing.

“Riley.” He spoke louder and shook her shoulder.

Her head rolled to the side. Shit, he hoped she hadn’t lost her keys. His eyes fell to the small shoulder bag that hung across her chest. He switched the above light on and opened her purse. She didn’t flinch against the bright glow. His brow furrowed as his fingers closed around smooth metal. He pulled the object out.

A foghorn? What the hell?

He shook his head. This was her idea of protecting herself? She was so drunk she’d probably hurt herself if she tried to use the damn thing. He dropped it in the console.

He leaned across the seat to peer farther into her bag. Her soft scent of strawberries—and vanilla?—filled his nose. Her hair brushed his cheek. The sleek skin of her belly filled his vision, tightening his insides. He exhaled through his nose, forcing the aroma away.

A dull ache pulsed behind his eyes as he searched the bottom of her purse and pulled out her key chain. He’d have to carry her; no way in hell was he going to deal with her drunken antics right now.

The warm sticky air greeted him when he opened the car door. He threaded his hand through his hair on the way to the passenger’s side. Even several blocks away, he could hear the roar of the crowd from the beach. Her eyes fluttered when he opened the door, then shut just as quickly.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He unbuckled the seat belt. His fingers closed around the slim circumference of her wrist as he let the belt go.

He lifted her into his arms. Her cheek rested against his shoulder, her hand limp in her lap. She curled against himand murmured something unintelligible. He walked the short distance to the set of stairs, and ascended to the porch. Balancing her against his chest, he opened the door.

The warm, fruity scent of air freshener filled his nostrils. He kicked the door shut and weaved his way through her house until he found the larger room of the two at the back. He lowered her to the bed, her bent knees fell to the side, and her arm dropped to rest beside her face.

She frowned, the slight crease in her brow deepened, and she rolled to her side. Her dark lashes rested against her creamy skin, her golden locks tangled around her.

Jenny had called her troubled. That was to say the least.

He reached down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers ached to trail the smooth line of her cheek. Warmth radiated from her skin and her lip stuck out in a slight pout. Annoyance settled in his chest. She’d had more run-ins with danger in the short weeks he’d known her than anything he’d witnessed before. Riley was playing a treacherous game and it was going to end here.

A low whimper sounded from her throat and she grasped her stomach. Shit.

---