Page 88 of Dealing Dirty
She lightly jogs her way down the hall to Ben, and he freezes where he stands with wide eyes.
Hazel gets on her tippy-toes to press a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she says before whipping back around and grabbing my hand once she reaches me.
Ben’s guilt-stricken gaze never leaves Hazel.
“See you on the flip.” Derrick salutes him, and the three of us hurry through a small wooden door.
The peaceful night mocks my thundering heart. I’m close to ripping this ridiculous gown off, but I’m reluctant to lose the layers of warmth.
Steadying myself with one hand on Derrick’s arm, I yank my high heels off and throw them to the ground.
He chuckles. “Déjà vu.”
A bright smile pulls at my frozen cheeks when he squats down, offering to carry me on his back.
I hop on before turning toward the house and flipping it off, damning Bruce and every one of those assholes who are willingly serving him.
“Now it is,” I say against the warmth of his neck.
Hazel tears off down the hill, and Derrick and I follow. The wind whips wildly, tossing my hair around, and the sound of dying grass crunches beneath their feet as we practically fly toward the creek.
“Hey!” someone shouts from behind.
Derrick slides to a stop. His chest is heaving and sweat has broken out across his brow, but his hold on me never falters.
“Fuck,” he pants as we watch two men, followed by Ben, race after us.
“Run, Hazel!” I scream at her.
We take off, using her slight frame as a guide in the darkness. This is going to get real ugly, real fast if we don’t make it out of here in time.
The sound of bullets whizzing past us tears a scream from my throat.
When I see the silhouette of Jack, Kenneth, and Cooper alongside Sasha and Micah, I release a whimper of joy.
They came for us!
“Ah!” I cry when a force like a freight train barrels into Derrick, sending me flying across the tall grass. The thick material of my gown helps to break my fall.
A giant of a man stalks toward me and grabs me by the ankle before yanking me toward him. I grab fistfuls of grass, trying to get a hold strong enough to kick at him, but his grip is unyielding.
“Let go of me, you big ugly prick!” The slit of my dress is revealing all kinds of goodies, and his eyes shift toward my peekaboo kitty. I smile when his weakness stalls him long enough for Derrick to tackle him.
I nearly gag at the slap of fists against skin, knowing Derrick won’t stop until he breaks this asshole’s nose.
“That’s gonna hurt in the morning,” I huff, scurrying to stand as the big lug rolls away from Derrick, lying face-first on the ground.
He rushes to help me as Micah appears by my side.
“I’m okay,” I say, moving to dust myself off, but my hands still over my waist.
Three guns are pointed at Sasha, Kenneth, Jack, and Cooper.
Ben meets my eyes briefly, and unmistakable regret shines through his gaze. “Put your weapons on the ground and step back.” When they gape at him, he yells, “Now!”
His extended hand, which holds a sleek black gun, follows their every movement as they slowly crouch down to do as he’s asked. Their questioning gazes linger on him when they finally place their weapons on the ground.
This isn’t fair to any of us, but especially not to Ben. He was roped into this trying to save his brother, and now he’s trapped, pretending to be the bad guy.
