The longer we drive, the more the landscape looks like where I grew up. I’m thrown back into memory lane.
“You know, this looks like where I grew up.” I watch as my breath clouds up the window briefly.
Sawyer throws me a look in the mirror. He also looks a little angry. It just makes him all the hotter to me.
I smirk at the nickname. “If I’m a bunny, you guys are the wolves.” I giggle a little. “The big bad wolves.”
Miles elbows me and growls, “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
I catch a tiny smirk on Sawyer’s face. I glower at Miles and turn back to the window. Such a fucking killjoy tonight.
It’s fully dark by the time we slow. We pull off a gravel road. The headlights flash across a few smaller crude oil tanks.
We stop, and Miles helps me get out. His strong hand steadies me when I stumble on the gravel a bit.
Sawyer jumps into the bed of the truck, and Miles leans into me, pressing me into the truck. His coconut scent surrounds me, and my pussy starts to throb.
“Don’t let Sawyer know you’re drunk.” He catches my eyes with his mesmerizing green ones.
“I’m not drunk,” I say, running my hands up his chest, but my words are drowned out by the dragging of a tarp. Okay, I’m a little buzzed. Who gives a fuck?
“Cali, a hand?” Sawyer calls.
I give Miles a wink. “Sorry, babe. My other man needs me.”
Miles freezes for a second, then releases me.
Oh fuck. Did I just call Sawyer my man? Jesus Christ, what was in that drink? I flee, rounding the truck.
Sawyer has Ben’s body laid out on a blue tarp on the ground. He’s leaning on an ax. “Ah, there’s the pretty little captive. Have a seat, I want someone to talk to while I get to work.”
My stomach churns for a second, but the alcohol washes it to the back corner of my mind. I haul myself up on the tailgate.
“So.” Sawyer swings the ax a bit but doesn’t raise it. “You like wolves, little bunny?”
I cross my arms. “They’re pretty animals.”
He throws me a smirk. “And rugged.”
I glare at him. “And stinky.”
Sawyer huffs and swings the ax down. It chops through Ben’s ankle, and I jump. It makes a crackle and snap, and suddenly I feel sick.
Sawyer heaves the ax up again, and his leg is separated at the knee. Dark blood leaks down the tarp.
I swallow. “Easy, babe,” Miles mutters from my side. I jump. I didn’t hear him come up.
Sawyer looks up at me. His eyes are still angry, but not as bad. “You grew up here?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t like fighting with him. The alcohol rages through me. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know. Where are we?”
Sawyer chuckles, and there’s another snap. “If you grew up in the country, you should know how to shoot a gun better.”
I snort and shoot him a dangerous glare.
“What?” Miles asks.
Sawyer heaves the ax again, and I look away. Another snap. “She took a shot at me when I grabbed her. Shoots like Ryder here. Wide and crazy.”