Page 3 of Tracked By Hound

The stranger doesn’t bother pointing that out either. It would be foolish for the man to blindly trust us. Ransom would have us over the border and into Canada before the sun was fully set. He would get us new identities, transfer my grandmother to a different nursing home under a different name, and we would start our lives over, but something tells me this man would still find us. And he wouldn’t be so generous the next time he pointed his gun at Ransom. I can’t risk that. I won’t. The only thing I can do is hope Ransom can pay the Rebels back before they run out of patience.

“I’ll go with you,” I say again, pushing to my feet and evading Ransom when he tries to grab my hand and stop me. “Just give me a few minutes to pack my things, then I’ll come with you.”

“CJ…Chelsea, this is madness. You can’t go with this man. The Rebels are monsters—”

I shut my bedroom door in his face, leaning against it as I push down the panic and fear that threatened to choke me earlier when I saw that gun pointed at my brother. I’m not asscared for my safety as I am for my brother’s. Something in the man’s eyes when we spoke earlier, the way he dropped the gun so quickly when I got in the way… He didn’t want to hurt me. I’ve been told I’m good with people. My job as a retail clerk has taught me how to deal with different kinds of people, how to make the toughest customer happy.

I take deep breaths until my hands have stopped shaking before I walk deeper into the room and grab a bag to pack a few clothes and toiletries. I make quick work of it, unwilling to leave the two men alone for much longer. Whatever I leave behind, I can always come back for. Assuming the man doesn’t lock me in some basement and throw away the key. I guess now I know how Belle felt with the Beast.

Ransom is still breathing when I finally emerge, which I take as a good sign, but the man has moved from the couch and is now standing by the broken front door, his massive build filling the doorway.

“CJ,” Ransom’s voice is broken as he steps forward. My heart twists at the desperate way he says my childhood nickname. Only Ransom has ever called me CJ. My mother insisted that everyone else always use Chelsea. “I can’t let you leave with him. You don’t know what these kind of men are capable of like I do.”

And yet he stole from them, I want to shout, but I know his heart was in the right place, and it can’t be undone now, so I don’t. “I’ll be fine,” I say instead, forcing a smile to assure my brother before turning to the giant blocking the doorway. “Right?”

“Yes. We don’t put our hands on women…unless they ask nicely.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the last part, ignoring Ransom’s angry growl. Not exactly the resounding assurance my brother needs right now, but it’ll have to do. “I’ll text and call every day so you don’t have to worry. Just focus on getting them their money.” I step forward and wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

He nods, and I imagine his throat is as choked up as mine. I pull away and force another smile, one I hope is convincing enough to assuage his worries.

“I love you, sis, and I’m so sorry.”

“You’ll make it up to me, big brother. You always do.”

He doesn’t stop me when I pull away, and with a teary smile, I wave at Ransom before following the stranger out.

Chapter Two

Hound

The sun has long set when we finally step out of the building. I fight a sigh when I realize how late it is—much later than I was expecting to wrap up this particular job, but when I turn to the girl silently following me, I realize there was no helping it.

She’s beautiful.

Chelsea is breathtaking, her skin the color of a blushing rose petal and her hair is dark brown with curls that bounce when she moves. Curls so wild, they look like they have a life of their own. She wears it loose so that it brushes her shoulders. Her eyes are a soft amber, the color of warm honey, rich and golden, sucking me in with their innocence, and that Cupid’s bow mouth. God, I could kiss it. Lick those lips until they part for me…

Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I doing taking this girl?

This is out of character for me. I never make deals with anyone who dares mess with the Rebels. These petty criminals know what they’re getting themselves into, but they always have the gall to act surprised when I track them down.

No, I never waste time listening to pathetic excuses and pointless pleas from people who knew better, but tonight…

“I have questions.”

“Not here,” I huff, and take long strides toward the spot where I left my bike parked. Annoyance and a little frustration atmyself for being weakened by a pair of golden eyes and a pretty mouth war within me. A face of an angel and a body made for sin, she’s God’s perfect creation with those juicy tits begging to be touched and curvy hips made for my hands to hold.

Tonight did not go how I expected, and it annoys me to no end that there is nothing I could have done differently. Not with her around. Saint will have some choice words for me, but he knows I’d never hurt a woman, so what else was I supposed to do?

I sensed her the moment she approached the broken door, and I let myself bask in her gaze without turning to look at her. When I finally did, nothing could have prepared me for the sight of her. She scrambled all rational thoughts from my mind and sent every ounce of blood rushing south. For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think. So, I let a man that had fucked over the Rebels go with barely a scratch.

For her.

“Hey, will you stop for a second?” she calls from behind, and I hear her footsteps as she hurries to catch up with me. I don’t stop until I’m beside my bike, and when she steps up next to me, she’s panting. I grab the helmet and turn to her, amused like I never have been before to find her glaring at me.

“Later,” I say before she can speak, sliding the helmet over her head and adjusting the chin strap. “I’ll answer any questions you have later.”

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