Page 16 of Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

My gut is roiled by a dangerous appetite for making choices, good or bad. I need to take control of my life and make my own choices.

I should probably dump him, but I don’t want to.

Stranger Danger will stay with me.

I sit in the driver’s seat and steer us onto the road. The weather is clearing. I hand him the bag containing the snacks I bought at the convenience store a few minutes earlier. He wipes out the sandwich in two bites. I wonder how long he has gone without eating.

I try to detach myself from this stranger sitting next to me. We’re not friends; we don’t know each other. But his voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality. “I have a demand for you.”

I look at him, mentally preparing for whatever request he may have. “What do you need?”

“Could we stop at a department store? I forgot a few essential things when I left.”

I raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Were you in a hurry?”

He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “A little. So?”

So what? It’s none of my business. You’re just an intruder on my road trip. I don’t care.

I shouldn’t care...

“No problem,” I reply with a forced smile.

His only response is a tiny grin and a nod as he settles back into his seat. He lowers and leans into it, closing his eyes. “I’m going to rest now.”

My remaining neurons short circuit. A nervous chuckle gets stuck in my throat. I could dump him at the nearest police station if he sleeps. But he doesn’t know I know he’s armed. Maybe he thinks I only saw his injury, or he realizes everything and intends to kill me anyway, toying perilously with my mind.

But the way he looks at me with trust and wariness makes my heart twinge. Like he wants to trust me but doesn’t know how.

I don’t know if he’s the kind of danger I should run from or the kind I should chase.

A primal part of me wants to chase him like prey, sink my teeth into his flesh, and never let go.

My right arm, acting of its own volition, reaches behind me and searches for something specific. I grab the fluffy fabric and hand him a cozy pillow. He gives me a slight, indistinct murmur before smiling. The smile is different, less forced. There’s something surreal about the moment. I return my attention to the road, but in the rearview mirror, I see my lips curve in a tender smile. It’s a genuine smile, one I haven’t had in a long time.

Oh, no. I’m getting attached to someone out of my reach. Why am I even entertaining thoughts of a cheesy romance? I can’t afford to fall for a stunning hitchhiker with an unclear past.

Woah, wait a minute. Fall?

I glance at him, wanting to etch every detail of his face into my memory. I’m suffering from sexy bad guy syndrome, and my emotions are reckless. Both beautiful and devastating.

After a few minutes, his breathing slows and deepens.

The last few days have been difficult for him. The glass cut is likely from flying through a window, which I assume occurred after a fight, and explains his swollen eye.

If only we had met under different circumstances.

Stranger Danger, Marianne!

But I’ve picked up a dozen hitchhikers in my life, and I’m still doing it.

I have this need to help…

A visceral urge to help others has been ingrained in me for as long as I can recall. Maybe it’s because my mother abandoned me. The burning desire to be worthy and valuable constantly rages within me.

My mind is a mess, and I can’t control my thoughts half the time. They spin out of control and land into the pitch-black corners of my soul, waiting to be fulfilled... or not?

Helping others is the only way to prove my worth to myself and have people in my life. I need to give something to receive something.

---