“What?” I ask, my voice barely loud enough to be heard.
He doesn’t answer me, but instead shifts his position and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet and running through the woods towards the car. A branch smacks me in the face and I cry out as it hits me, but he doesn’t slow down. There’s a stump in my way and I trip on it, my shoulder almost jerking out of the socket as he pulls me up from the ground and continues to the car.
We reach the car and he throws the back door open, grabs me, and pushes me through it. My shoulder throbs but I ignore it, scooting away from the door and across the backseat as quickly as possible. My guy – the guy – climbs in after me and slams the door as the driver hits the gas.
Wait a minute. I swear, I recognize this car. It takes me a minute to realize that I’m back in the backseat of the same car that drove me home last night. Leaning forward, I get a good look at the driver. Yep. The little teenage boy.
Adrenaline still courses through my veins, and I’m sure that I should be grateful that I’m no longer crouched down in the woods waiting for someone to come shoot me in the head, but I can’t manage that emotion right now. Instead of being grateful, I turn to the reason I’m in the car in the first place and snarl.
“What the hell was that?!” There’s movement from the driver’s seat, and I know that the kid is looking at us, but I don’t care. He’s not the one who was just shot at in a dark alley. He can judge me all he wants, and I don’t give a shit.
“That?” The guy runs a hand through his hair and stares at me. It’s hard for me to see his face in the dark, but I keep catching glimpses of it when we pass under streetlights. Without thinking about what I’m doing, I lean up and turn on the overhead light.
He immediately smacks it, turning it back off. “What the fuck are you thinking? Do you want someone to see you in here?”
Fuck. Are they still looking for us? I turn away from him and press my face up against the window, but all I can see are buildings and trees as we fly down the road. Whatever the speed limit is here, I’m sure that the kid is going over it, but I don’t care. I just want out of there as fast as possible, and it’s obvious that the two of them do, too.
“You care to explain what’s going on?” I’m doing all I can to keep my voice sounding as calm as possible, but I really just want to rage and scream at him. He sounds so damn calm, and I feel like I’m about to come out of my skin. Uncomfortably, I adjust my shirt, trying to cover a bit more of my skin.
I swear, I hear him smirk in the dark.
“We’re just getting out of there.” His voice is low, like he’s humoring me but he’s not happy about it. I have the distinct feeling that any other questions I dare to ask are going to be greeted with silence, but I can’t help it. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on.
Yeah, says the girl who has now slept with the nameless guy twice.
“Okay, do you care to tell me where we’re going? And maybe your name?” I squeeze my legs together as I admit to him and the driver that I don’t even know his name, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t care how embarrassed I am as long as I get out of here in one piece.
He chuckles this time and I glance up at the driver, but his head doesn’t move. I’m not stupid, and I know that he’s hearing everything we’re saying, but he must be more mature than I thought. Any person who can hear what we’re saying and not comment on it must be pretty well trained.
“We’re going to see my Pops. He’ll know who that was. And I’m Roque.” The rumble of his voice thrums through my body and I have to resist leaning over and snuggling up next to him. As safe as I know that I would feel, I don’t want to make him think that this was anything more than a fuck.
Okay, two fucks. But that’s it. No more fucks, no matter what magical things he can do with his cock. And his fingers. My mind wanders and I wonder what he can do with his mouth, but I have to stop myself right there.
Not going down that path.
“Rogue?”
A laugh escapes the lips of the driver, but Roque doesn’t even turn his head to look at him. I have the distinct feeling that the indiscretion will be dealt with later, when I’m not around. “Roque. With a “q.” It’s a family name.”
Of course it is. Only guys who take me to see their Pops after we’ve just been shot at would wear a family name with such pride. I search my mind for any mention of him, but nothing that Cherie has said rings a bell.
“Great. Can’t wait to meet your dad.” Crossing my arms, I sit back, trying my best to relax. It’s been a long damn day and I haven’t even been out of bed for that long. A yawn threatens to rip through me, but my body is still on high alert. How could it not be when I’m sitting just inches from Roque? Trying to keep it from being obvious, I scoot away, pressing my body up against the door.
He notices. Of course, he does. I’m getting the feeling that he sees everything. Rather than commenting on me moving away from him, however, he simply scoots over and slips his arm around me, pulling me to
