Page 18 of Wanted

I close and open my eyes a couple of times. At the same time, I work to control my breathing. Then suddenly, it hits me all at once.

I’ve just escaped out of my motel room, in the middle of the night, from only God knows who, with a man.

A man who saved me.

Who’s now driving me somewhere.

And I don’t even know his name.

CHAPTER 6

Emery

When I open my eyes a few hours later, the sun is up. A glance around at our surroundings tells me we’re still in Florida somewhere. On a long stretch of road.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” I mumble.

I turn to the man in the driver’s seat next to me. He’s completely focused on the road ahead. I drink in his profile. Beautiful copper skin, long, gorgeous dark hair. The top of his head nearly touches the roof of the truck. One long arm gripping the steering wheel. I stare at his hand which is so firmly wrapped around the wheel that veins bulge. I follow the trail of veins up his hand and along his forearms.

Something hot flashes through my body. I sit up, suddenly unable to stay still.

“Where are we going?” I ask, needing to break the silence. He hasn’t looked at me once since I’ve awakened.

He doesn’t answer.

“You do know this is kidnapping, right?” Yes, I did willingly get into his truck, but I have the right to revoke my consent whenever I choose.

Again, silence.

“Excuse me?” This time I tug on his arm.

His head turns in my direction, his sharp gaze lands on me.

“Where are we going?” This time my question comes out shaky.

“Cynthia’s,” he says in a grunt as if I’m supposed to know who Cynthia is.

“And she is?”

He’s turned his attention back to the road, again not answering.

“Hello?” I grab his arm again, drawing his attention. “Who is Cynthia? Why are we going to see her? I need to get back to town to go to the police station.”

He blinks, his lips tightening but he doesn’t answer. It seems my mention of the police causes some sort of distress. Then I remember, this is a stranger who broke into my motel room.

Yes, he saved me from someone else who tried to break in and do only God knows what. But he was there first. Sitting in my motel room while I slept. He could be just as big a threat as whoever he supposedly rescued me from.

Or worse, what if he just used that as an excuse? What if this is all an elaborate setup?

I shake my head to get free of my racing thoughts. I’m usually the rational, level-headed one. Ashley is the one who enjoys making up stories. I have to be the more practical one out of the two of us.

That’s how I’ve been able to take care of her over the years.

“Excuse me?” I say because I realize that I still don’t even know this man’s name.

I tap him on the arm when he, rudely, doesn’t answer me.

“What’s your name?” I ask when he looks over at me.

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