Page 18 of The Vigilante's Lover
Mia scrambles out the door as best she can, the ropes limiting her movement. I grab the back of the bindings and pull her tight against me. Her skin is hot against my fingers.
“You’re wired,” I hiss in her ear.
“What?” she cries. “What are you—”
I turn my fist and the ropes tighten. The silk cords press into her soft skin and Mia gasps.
“I suggest you be very quiet, unless you want the gag again. Nod if you understand.”
Mia nods several times in quick succession. I release my grip and turn her around. I flick my wrist to snap the dagger from its sheath into my hand. I hold it between us.
“Now,” I say. “You’ve got a transmitter on you somewhere, and I’m going to find it. I recommend standing very, very still.”
10: Mia
I do what he says and stand completely still. The night is chilly, though, and I’m not wearing much. I try to suppress my shivers.
Little ripping sounds signal the cotton getting sliced through. Fresh air hits more skin.
He’s cutting my gown away.
We’re in the middle of nowhere. He’s gone off the highway. There’s nothing for miles except empty fields, the occasional parked plow just a shadow in the moonlight.
He could rape me. Kill me. Do anything.
But I’m oddly calm. I think of my mother, her strong smile. Nothing got to her.
What would she do?
Laugh at him. She would show no fear.
He tugs at the strips of my nightgown, pulling them through the ropes that still crisscross my body. He works swiftly, carefully, and the cotton slides across my skin like a caress.
I look down, fascinated, as he tugs it away, revealing my body in the bluish light. White fabric litters the ground at my feet.
He examines each piece, frowning. His face is drawn tight in concentration as he squeezes every white strip. He looks at each button as he pops it from what once was the front of the gown.
The last section covering my chest pulls away with his sharp tug. I might as well be a mannequin for all Jax notices as my breasts are revealed in the moonlight. I stare at myself, my bare body in the red ropes. I shiver with something more than the cold. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more alive than I do at this moment. The tears and the fright just drop away, like the pieces of my silly frumpy nightgown.
My mother feels very close. I shove anything away that doesn’t help me. No fear. No crying.
Determination. Guile. Be like the letters. Be the girl who wrote them. I have it in me. It was the birthright I gave up when my parents died. I could have been like my mother and father, wild and dangerous. But I chose to live like my aunt.
No more.
Jax twists the last pieces of fabric in his hands. He walks quickly to the trunk of his car, opens it, and pulls some small device from a suitcase. He returns and passes a slender silver wand over the pile of fabric. Nothing happens.
He looks up at me. I’ve never been more vulnerable in my life. Naked other than the ropes and my panties, freezing in the wind. But I feel strong.
He notices me this time, like he senses something has changed. His eyes linger on my body. I don’t feel cold at all now, flush with his gaze. Heat blossoms through my body, growing painfully fiery between my legs. His eyes are shadowed, but he takes his time.
Even in the low light I can see something twitch in his jaw. I don’t know what it means, but it’s making me feel crazy. I want him to touch me, to do something. It’s the most insane sensation I can imagine.
But he didn’t hurt me or do anything before, when he could have. He seems to think I’m his enemy, and yet, he’s done nothing to harm me.
I no longer fear him.
He steps in closer and I suck in a breath. My heart is hammering so hard he can surely hear it. But he doesn’t reach out with his hand. The wand skims the surface of my skin, so close it almost touches.
