I glare at him.
He holds his hands up. “I get it. If I talk, no cock.”
I go to say something smart, but I’m pushed against the tree, Stone’s hard gaze on me. His chest heaves as he presses against the length of my body. Before I know it, he’s on me. His lips claim mine, forcing my mouth open with a swoop of his tongue. He pushes and pushes, diving in and out, mesmerizing my lips until they’re buzzing, feeling like they’ve been at war and bruised, but also like they enjoyed the fuck out of it. When he pulls away, he says, “I know what you’re doing for us. I intend to never make you regret this for the rest of your life, Dakota Wilder.”
I stand there stupidly. While he’s promising me things I never thought to ask for, my mind takes a much dirtier path. He steps away, and my body immediately screams for him. I want to tell it to stop overreacting, but the truth is, I felt that kiss all the way to my soul.
With Stone, the intensity of my feelings are scary. It’s either I hate him so much I hope he drowns in a two-inch puddle. Or I want to run off into the sunset on his arm with a life growing inside me. There’s no happy medium.
I press my fingers to my lips, the ghost of his touch still there. He’ll be imprinted on me always now.
Fuck.
Stone picks up the shovel. “Just point me where.”
I guess at this point, it would be inappropriate to point where I want him most. And that has nothing to do with digging in the dirt.
33
Before I can point out the spot within three paces of the tree where the safe is buried five feet under the earth, the ground underneath my feet rumbles at the same time an explosion roars its way through the landscape. I whip around in time to see a fireball rise up from where my family’s house would be.
“What the fuck?” I stagger back as the impact of what’s happened hits me. Rubble from the explosion falls back down to the earth.
My house. My father’s house. My memories. I run forward, needing to see it for myself. The guys call out behind me, but I don’t stop. My feet kick up dirt all around me as I run as fast as I can back toward the house. Flames flicker just over the little knoll, reaching up toward the sun as if we needed another source of heat in this godforsaken place.
Hands capture me from behind, and I struggle to get out of them. Up ahead, an ATV roars over the little knoll, catches air, and lands in a plume of dust. Two more ATV’s follow while Stone loosens his grip on me. We start to move backwards until Wyatt and Lucas flank us.
My flight response kicks in but there’s nowhere for us to go. All there is are miles and miles of the same terrain. There’s no place to take cover. Nothing to hide in or behind. Whoever these guys are would find us in a heartbeat.
“Fuck,” Lucas growls. He stands next to me, his shoulder heaving against mine as the ATV’s surround us.
I almost fall flat on my ass when I recognize Lance Jacobs. The dust plume hides his face for a moment but when he gets out, I growl on instinct.
“Thanks, son,” Lance says, smiling at Stone.
I turn toward Stone, my stomach bottoming out. A physical pain hits me in the chest. His mouth drops, but I’m not falling for it. What was that kiss for anyway? Just something to distract me?
They’ve used me.
Other men dressed in suits get out of ATV’s, all driven by people I wouldn’t think these rich bastards would even give the time of day. The separation between them is apparent. Three of the guys, including Lance, look like they just stepped out of the country club while their drivers sport tattoos peeking out of rolled-up sleeves and shorts that hang low on their asses, boxers peeking through. Thugs, basically. If it weren’t for the smiles on all the rich guys’ faces, I’d think we were in some sort of hostage situation.
“I told you we would get to the bottom of everything,” Lance says, smiling at the guy who drove his ATV. The guy doesn’t grin back. In fact, he looks scary as fuck. He has flame tattoos peeking out of his shirt collar, a five o’clock shadow that adds to his danger factor, and a presence that chills me to my bones.
And I thought Stone Jacobs had a look. This one is danger personified. That little niggle of intuition shivers up my spine. He may look years younger than Lance Jacobs. He may look like he belongs in juvenile detention with the earrings adorning his ears rather than driving an ATV for a rich dude, but he’s the biggest threat in this scenario. I can feel it.
Lance Jacobs is his bitch.
“Dad,” Stone says, gritting his teeth.
Lance shakes his head. “I let you play out this little scenario for too long.”
A rumble comes from Stone’s chest, but it cuts off as the other two thugs produce guns from somewhere on them. They hold them down next to their thighs, but just the fact that they have them makes fear skitter through me. I take a step back and hit Lucas’s hard body.
Lance smirks as he looks around. The line in his jaw feathers, but he laughs it off. “It’s good to have backup,” he shrugs. “But the guns won’t be necessary. Dakota Wilder is going to tell us where her father’s important papers are, aren’t you, Dakota?”
I clamp down on my jaw as the two gunmen lift their guns, aiming them right at me. My stomach bottoms out, and a cold shiver leaves me standing there, isolated. Wyatt pushes forward, profanities spilling into the air as he moves in front of me.
