Page 70 of Prey

A figure emerged quickly from the bushes, and I screamed as their arms wrapped around my body, and we fell to the soft grass.

“Get off me,” I screamed as a hand clamped over my mouth and muffled my cries.

“Shhh, Riley, it’s me, Rourke,” he stated calmly, rolling on top of me so I couldn’t get away under his solid, heavy body.

My eyes adjusted to the man in a black ski mask, crazy fucking nutjob, Rourke. “Is it impossible for you to approach me like a normal person?” I snarled under his warm hand over my mouth, doubting he had heard what I said.

“Don’t scream, Riley,” he stated evenly with a hint of a warning tone. “Don’t scream when I remove my hand, or I’ll cover your mouth again. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Do you promise you won’t scream?” he persisted, annoying me, but I had to remind myself what he was capable of.

“Yes,” I snarled.

He removed his hand, took my wrists, and held them above my head. “Tell me where you work?”

“No, because I don’t want you to turn up and knock the teeth out of people,” I explained as I could hear voices in the distance.

“Fair argument,” he replied, glancing behind him in the direction of the voices.

“I think they were following me,” I told him. “I’ve seen that car before.”

“Huh,” he grunted and climbed off me, leaping to his feet. “Stay here.”

“Don’t start a fight or do anything stupid,” I whisper-shouted.

“Define stupid,” he called back, stooping low and picking up his pace toward the voices.

I kept my eyes on his dark frame as he vanished from view, and I climbed to my feet and brushed myself down, rolling my eyes at Rourke being Rourke. Annika would love him if she met him, probably gazing up at his covered face with blue doe eyes and tipping her world upside down to accommodate him. Crazy fucking Rourke.

Whereas Ronan was more Riley’s taste, calm, mature, responsible, clean shaven, ambitious, the list goes on. Ronan was marriage material, whereas Rourke was material for therapists.

Thudding footsteps headed my way as Rourke reappeared in my view. Headlights flooded through the trees behind him, and the sound of a starting engine followed.

“Cops,” he said a little breathless, and at first, I thought I heard wrong.

“Did you say cops? Really? Did you talk to them? How can you tell?” I asked, wondering if it was a hunch or perhaps he saw their uniforms.

“I’d recognize a cop and cop car anywhere, even in plain clothes and unmarked vehicles.” He shrugged as my head spun. “It’s pretty obvious. Are you sure they were following you?”

“No,” I answered, a little stunned, and I wondered if they were part of the Witness Protection Program, but why didn’t they contact me if they wanted to talk to me? They could access my number from Judith or Tindale. Maybe Rourke was incorrect. “Imust be mistaken. Why are cops skulking about at night acting creepy?”

“Best way to catch a thief,” he answered, then I snorted when I realized that the man before me had a habit of skulking about at night acting creepy too.

“Do you think they thought I was a thief?” I whispered, hugging his arm fondly as he pressed his masked-covered mouth against my forehead.

“Well, you do look shifty,” he joked, smacking my backside, “with that little ass and cute smile.”

“Take your mask off, Rourke,” I beseeched, desperately wanting to see his features and smile. I didn’t care if he had horrible scars, if it was true because I did have doubts. I wasn’t so superficial that I’d dump a man just because of some scars that he had no control over. “Please.”

He hesitated as if considering it, but then his head cocked as if a little irritated. “I’m not ready yet. Don’t ask me again.”

“Well…I won’t take my clothes off for you then,” I threatened, unsure how far I could go.

“What?” he snapped, sounding a little stunned.

“Ha. See, I can bargain with the devil. You take your mask off, and I’ll take my clothes off,” I taunted, pushing his buttons, hoping he didn’t snap. “Deal?”

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