Page 51 of Desert King

“I know,” she sighs. “Doesn’t matter. He looks right through me.”

“He’s stupid. You’re stunning.”

She grimaces. “Thanks. What are you going to do with Mandy’s truck?”

“Give it back?”’

“To whom? She would want you to take it. I’m just not sure she would want you to take his heart, too.”

“Tarak’s or Edge’s?”

“Who do you think? You’ve already chosen. Even if you won’t admit it to me. If you hurt him, I’ll come after you again.”

“I don’t doubt it. Can… can we be friends? I kind of like you. You’re such a badass.”

“Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

“You do that,” I grin as I stand, using my hands to wipe desert dust off my ass.

“Thanks for the beer.”

“Keep it. I have to figure out how to get home.”

“Where’s that? You had us fooled. I thought you were gone.”

“I’m not letting anyone run me out. And I’m not stupid enough to tell you.”

“Fine. But it was a one-off. Our kiss… everything after.”

I hold up a hand. “Don’t. Speak. Of. It.”

“Fine,” she smirks, taking another swig.

I walk back out into the park, over the bridge and take out my cell. I’m tempted to text Tarak. But decide to call Jenny. A hand clasps over my mouth. I’m pulled against a strong body. I scream, biting thick fingers, recognizing the taste of his skin. He curses, removes his hand and replaces it with a bandana. I’m gagged, hauled over his shoulders kicking and screaming and into the back of a van.

“Hey, sugar. I was still in town. Tarak called thinking I was 200 miles away. Edge buckles me in, zip ties my hands and gets behind the driver’s wheel.

I’m so angry, my body shakes. Edge is going to pay. Like Tarak, I’ve seen his good sides with the bad. But kidnapping me is too far.

The drive to Albuquerque takes a few hours. I’m sticky, sweaty, and really need to pee. Finally, he parks, hauls me into his arms and over his shoulder, into what a guess is his Clubhouse. He carries me like some prize past hollering men who ask who I am.

“Tarak’s girl. And mine.”

“Again? Damn, the two of you need to find another type.

Edge doesn’t answer. He carries me into a back room, plopping me down and locks the door. He opens a small fridge, takes out a bottle of water and loosens my gag.

“Don’t do this. Please, untie me.”

But he doesn’t listen.

“I-I’m falling in love with him.”

“But you want me.”

I rip my eyes from his. I’m ashamed, embarrassed. At one time, I wanted them both. I was undecided between who I’d choose. But I did choose.

He steps closer. I’m on my knees with my hands tied around my back. His finger traces the curve of my cheek. “Damn, mouse. You became beautiful.”

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