Page 106 of Skin Deep

To the north was a rickety little ghost town rigged with tripwires and traps. Hell, Boone was crazy enough I wouldn’t put it past him to bury a bunch of landmines out there. Running through there would be suicide, and I planned to live long enough to enjoy freedom.

So, I ran west with hopes that I’d stumble on a road and rescue before Boone and his dogs stumbled on me.

The rows curved ahead and I skidded to a painful stop, my bare feet digging into hard clumps of dirt. Which way should I go? Where was I? My lungs burned. I’d been running so long, I forgot whether I’d taken a right or left turn at the last junction, and I was out of time to decide.

A growl cut through the night behind me. I turned and found myself face to face with a black and white Pitbull terrier mix. I swear, Trixie must’ve had Great Dane in her too because she washuge.

I held up my hands as she took a step closer, drool dripping from her massive jaws. “Hey, Trixie. Good girl. Nice puppy.”

It was pointless. Trixie was fiercely loyal to her master, and he’d ordered her to stop me. I couldn’t outrun her either. That didn’t stop me from backing away.

And bumping directly into her sister, Morticia. Morticia was even bigger, and she was right behind me. Dammit, I was so fucked.

The two dogs backed me up while I kept my hands raised, hoping they wouldn’t pounce on me. Unfortunately for me, that was exactly what they did. Trixie threw back her head and let out an ear-splitting bray before she charged.

“Oof!” I grunted as she threw herself at my gut while Morticia bumped her shoulder against the back of my knees. I tumbled to the ground and they were both on me in an instant, plopping their heavy bodies across my shoulders and hips. No matter how I kicked, they were just too big for me to throw off, at least without having then snap their drooling jaws at me.

I didn’t think they’d bite me—at least not without a direct command from Boone himself—but I also didn’t want to push it.

“Well, well, well. Lookie what I caught. A naughty little puppy out for a midnight stroll.” The cornstalks parted and a short redhead with permanent stubble crawling down his neck stepped out, a shotgun on his shoulder. He paused to adjust his trusty faded blue trucker cap, letting some of his long, red hair spill out.

“I’m not your puppy, asshole!” I grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it at him. It didn’t even come close to hitting him. “Get your fucking dogs off of me!”

“Sure thing.” He grinned and winked. “But it’s going to cost ya.”

I grimaced and let my head fall back into the dirt. My arrangement with Boone was supposed to be simple. He gave me a place to stay and the opportunity to work off the debt I owed him for helping to spring me from the psych hospital, and I did the fucking work. Except I hated him, hated the work, and had never fucking planned to stay longer than one night. My whole plan had been to run as soon as I could and never work off a dime for this asshole. I never thought he’d actually hunt me down to make sure I did.

With a frustrated growl I let my fists relax. There was no point in fighting my capture. If I couldn’t get what I wanted one way, I’d just have to try another. I closed my eyes and forced my body to relax. “I surrender.”

Boone’s grin widened. “Go on, girls. Give him hell.”

I gagged as both dogs rolled and started licking me like crazy. Their breath smelled like they’d been eating shit covered tires. Gross. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as Trixie started licking my stomach. God dammit, why did I have to beticklish?

Boone chuckled and stood before giving a sharp whistle. Morticia and Trixie immediately leapt up and went to his side, ears perked and ready to follow his next command.

Boone approached slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, and pulled me to my feet. His fingers lingered just a bit too long in mine, and eyes were too soft. Not with pity. Boone didn’t have an ounce of that in him. No, there was desire behind those honey brown eyes. He liked the chase, almost as much as I liked running.

It wasn’t the same for me as it was for him. For me, running was necessary. I couldn’t stay trapped behind those walls with nothing but dogs and dirt for company. I’d spent too much time as a prisoner already.

But Boone…He wanted me. He’d wanted me the day he set eyes on me three months ago. Even though he’d never acted on that desire, it was there, and he hated himself for it.

He finally let me go and I winced when I put weight down on my left ankle.

Boone surged forward like he wanted to touch me again, but stopped himself. “Where?”

“Ankle,” I hissed, exaggerating the pain slightly. I didn’t want his pity, but I’d fucking use it like a weapon if I had to.

“Here. Come on now. Sit down before you hurt yourself worse, Pup.” He eased me into the dirt and picked up my cut ankle like he could somehow fix it by staring at it.

A familiar engine rumbled, and the old Jeep pulled up on the narrow strip of grass between the cornfield and the trees. Church was at the wheel in his pajamas, his muscles making the buttons strain to stay shut. He gritted his teeth and glared at me, irritated that I’d interrupted his beauty sleep.

Meanwhile, Wattson, the unit’s doctor, half fell trying to stand up in the front seat, eyes wide. Boone stood and moved out of the way so Wattson could take over. Wattson helped me to my feet. I leaned on him more than I needed to. My ankle hurt, but not as bad as I was making it seem. I was going to milk that injury for all the sympathy I could.

Boone was almost too gentle as he helped me into the back of the Jeep. “Easy, Pup. Don’t hurt yourself.”

The gentle way Boone helped me into the back of the Jeep made the hateful fire in my belly burn stronger. I glared at him as he climbed in behind me, the dogs jumping at his heels. “Why do you even fucking care what happens to me?”

“You an investment, kid, and I intend to get my money’s worth.”

---