Page 17 of Ride With Me

I nod slowly, my tongue too thick for me to form actual words. I look down at the bottle of water, my eyes squinting. Did he drug me? No, that can’t be right. I’m the bad guy here, not him. He only wants his stuff back. Nothing about him screams dangerous, but my skin prickles and my heart picks up when he leans in closer to me anyway. “Good. We’ll get you settled on the couch anyway to be on the safe side. You’ve had a really long day.”

His smile is less welcoming the more I see it. Shoving his arm under mine, he lifts me to my feet, and I lean on him untilwe reach the couch. “Easy. I got you. You’ll get to sleep soon, I promise. Something tells me it’s been a long time since you’ve had a good night’s rest.”

It really has been. All I do is worry and overthink, to the point where I dream about my to-do list and everything going wrong. I don’t have to dream about that last part tonight because it’s now my reality—only it doesn’t feel as bad as I’ve pictured it. His hands on me, and the way he lays a knitted blanket over my body while shoving a pillow under my head, feels too nice. Yes, too nice is definitely the right way to describe it.

“I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” I say in an almost too quiet voice.

Leaving me alone in the living room, he rushes to his bedroom, and I doze off a little, waking up to him bandaging my finger. The kiss he presses to the tip has to be all part of my imagination, or maybe I’m still asleep.

“All done. Not too bad, huh? You were the perfect patient. Probably the best I’ve had in a long while.” Standing up, he removes his gloves.

“Am I going to the guest room now?”

Holding my stare, he shakes his head. “I think you’re comfortable enough here for now. Get some sleep. We’ll be getting up as soon as the sun rises. We both have a big day tomorrow. Night...” He lingers, waiting for me to respond with my name, so I do.

“Riley.”

“Night, Riley.” He turns to leave and then stops, craning his neck. “Oh, one last thing. How do you like your eggs?”

“Over easy,” I say, slurring my words a little.

“That makes things easy then. So do I.” He smiles and slowly makes his way back to his room, carrying all his supplies.

I can’t read this man no matter how much I try. It’s possible he drugged me and is holding me captive here as some form ofpunishment, but all I can focus on is that he’s making me eggs in the morning and cared enough to ask how I want them. He cared. For me. And nothing about feeding me and keeping me warm is part of his duties as a doctor. If he drugged me, he had every reason to. I’m a criminal sleeping in his house and he’s... he’s the doctor who cared for me.

My doctor… No, that can’t be right.

Before I can question it some more, everything darkens around me.

CHAPTER 4

RILEY

Sam is settingthe table when I open my eyes, glass plates clinking against the hardwood. The man really likes oak. Explains why he loves living around trees so damn much.

“Morning.” He smiles my way, holding a pitcher of juice in his hand. “Come join me.”

“Uh… Is it cool if I use your bathroom first?”

“Sure. Neither have any windows so I hope that’s not the reason.” He winks and I snort.

“Of course they don’t, but no I really have to pee. It was all that water you gave me.”

Laughing, he shakes his head. “It was beneficial and so is peeing. You can use the shower too if you want. I have some clothes you can borrow. Yours reek of crime.”

I laugh and stand from the couch. “I’m okay. I don’t understand why you’re being so nice to me. I broke your glass and stole your shit.”

“You did, but you’ll also be helping me get it back soon, and I don’t need you growing tired or passing out before you can. Go wake up and then come eat breakfast. We won’t get very far with how you are now.”

Of course that’s the only reason he’s doing all this. He wants me to lead him to the right place today and get me the hell out of his hair. Where that will land me, who knows. He hasn’t said yet. Will he, if I ask? He’s been mostly kind so far, and the occasional anger radiating off him is understandable but he’s a good guy.

Halfway to the bathroom, I freeze, my toes curling against the floor. He took my shoes off. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s that?” He raises his head from the cup he’s filling.

“Are you going to take me to the cops when this is all over?”

---