Page 87 of Corrupt Me

I shifted in my seat, unbuckling the belt strapped across my chest.

It couldn’t be.

I leaned forward, needing a clearer picture of the car, but holy shit, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was the same car I’d seen at the motel.

But that didn’t make sense.

Not unless they followed us.

What a frightening thought.

A fissure of panic bolted like a strike of lightning through me. I couldn’t sit in the car like a sitting duck waiting to be abducted…or worse. Much worse.

Fuck staying in the car. Not while a lunatic followed us. I didn’t know what he wanted, and I wasn’t going to hang around and find out.

While the stalker’s car was still behind the gate, I grabbed the keys and scrambled out of the Mustang, slamming the door shut behind me. It rang through the suffocatingly quiet night, echoing into the stars along with the damn crickets chirping. I had no time to appreciate nature.

I got the hell out of Dodge, dashing in the direction I’d seen Tristan disappear, cursing his name a dozen different ways. My sneakers slapped over the cracked asphalt, the oversized hoodie flapping in the wind. Fear clawed at my lungs, my heart pounding with frantic urgency to move faster. Overhead, the crescent moon peeked through thick clouds, offering little light to guide me. Shadows loomed from the derelict building, their jagged edges resembling teeth ready to devour me whole, but the warehouse seemed a safer bet than out here.

It might have been my imagination, but I swore footsteps sounded behind me, and the prickles dancing up my arms indicated the person was closing in. Every instinct screamed atme to run faster, but the loose gravel under my sneakers had me sliding on the ground.

As I rounded the corner, I looked over my shoulder, needing to verify the stalker hadn’t gotten out of his car and given chase, that my paranoia was a pain in the ass. Turned out, I had bigger problems.

Much bigger, bulkier problems that outweighed me by a good two hundred pounds. Not to mention the muscles. Why were they so…large?

Smacking into what felt like a wall but was a chest of muscles, I had no doubt in my mind that this guy ate steroids for breakfast, lunch, midday snack, and dinner.

Holy hell. What had his momma fed him?

The side of my face throbbed. I should be grateful it was my cheek that hit him and not my nose, or there would have been blood everywhere. My blood. His linebacker-sized hands went to my shoulders, keeping me from going anywhere.

Son of a bitch.

I winced under the pressure of his fingers into my flesh. If he applied any more strength, he’d be touching bone.

A wry grin curled on the linebacker’s lips. “What do we have here? A stray?”

twenty-five

My body froze, ice trickling down my spine. Swallowing, I stared at one of the largest men I’d ever seen. A snake tattoo corded around his thick neck, the tail disappearing under the collar of his fitted black tee. He had a few other small tattoos inked on his face…gang marks. His beefy fingers wrapped around my arms like they were thin pretzel rods. A small amount of pressure and my bones would snap. An unpleasant image, and one I wished my brain wouldn’t have shared.

He yanked me roughly close, and I got a whiff of alcohol on his breath. “What is a pretty thing like you doing lurking around in the dark?”

Keep cool. Don’t let him know you’re scared.I batted my lashes, wishing I’d at least put on a coat of massacre this morning because the only way I was getting out of this situation was by using my womanly wiles. As if I had any of those. But it was worth a shot. “You think I’m pretty?” The question came out more sarcastic than sexy, making me want to walk into a wall.

Appreciatingly hazel eyes glanced me over, lingering too long on my exposed legs beneath Tristan’s hoodie. “You got guts playing games.”

My pulse thudded in my ears as I tried to think of a way out of this situation. “I was looking for the bathroom.” The excuse tumbled in a rush out of my mouth. Yep. That’s what I came up with…a sad, pathetic excuse if I ever heard one.

He laughed, and I hoped that was a good omen, but I seriously had doubts. “Does this look like a public outhouse, darling?”

I got another puff of alcohol breath in my face. “Should you be drinking on the job? This is a job, right? Like you work here?” I rambled, unable to stop my lips from flapping nonsense.

A snap of cold seriousness entered his features. “Best to keep your questions to yourself.”

The pain in my arms from his hands changed to numbness. “Someone was following me, okay? I was running away from them. That’s the truth.”

“Who?” He peered over my head like he half expected someone lurking in the dark.

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