Page 6 of Handcuffed By the Bounty Hunters

“Did you at least cuff her?”

“Cuff me?” Penny’s expression of relief at being saved transforms to panic. “Cuff me, why?”

“We’ve been sent to collect you,” Cameron says.

“No, no.” She elbows Cameron hard in the gut and starts to run.

I drop her things and chase after her. It doesn’t take me more than five strides before she’s captured in my arms.

Even though she’s fighting against my hold, I can’t help but notice how soft she feels, how good she smells.

“Clive sent you, and I can’t go back to him,” she says. “He’ll kill me.”

That seems a bit extreme. She’s going to face the criminal justice system and probably some hefty fines. Likely, she’s trying to manipulate me, gain some sympathy so we let down our guard and she escapes.

Not gonna happen.

I pull a set of handcuffs from my jacket pocket and slip them onto her delicate wrists.

“Don’t struggle,” I say. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her eyes fill with tears, but she blinks them away. My fucking heart. I don’t like this. I don’t like the look of betrayal in her deep brown eyes. More gentle than I’d usually be with someone we’re handcuffing and carting away, I grip her elbow and walk her back to Cameron.

He picks up her things. Her sweatshirt is now soaking wet and covered in mud, so I shrug out of my rain jacket and drape the garment over Penny’s shoulders.

“Please,” Penny whispers. “Don’t take me back to Clive. Take me anywhere but to him, I swear I’ll be good, I’ll behave.”

My cock twitches in interest. I love hearing “I’ll be good, I’ll behave” from a woman, but this is the wrong context, so I will myself to tamp down the flickers of heat in my groin.

“How about the police station?” Cameron asks.

She pales. “They might be taking bribes from him.”

“Look, we’ll bring you back to our office, and from there we’ll figure out what to do with you,” Cameron says, sounding kind and understanding.

Penny doesn’t seem to have an argument for that.

We trek through the woods, and it’s raining so hard that the trees offer barely any cover at all. My shirt’s completely soaked through by the time we get to the car.

Cameron takes one look at the SUV and curses under his breath.

“What?” I ask, angling closer.

“The tires. Fucker slashed the tires.”

Sure enough, the sedan is gone, and our tires are completely ripped apart—all four of them.

“Jaxon’s going to be pissed,” I say. “These were new tires.”

“Well, now what?” Cameron asks.

“Is there a motel here?”

He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps at the screen, holding it at an angle to see it past the rain. “Still no signal.”

“Fuck,” I say, grabbing Cameron’s duffel from the trunk and tossing it to him before grabbing my own. “I guess we’re sleeping in that cabin.”

4

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