Page 370 of Rage

I’m not that girl anymore. Two years of hating him, of being angry and hurt, are all coming to fruition at this very moment.

The cop groans again, but I can’t make myself glance over. It’s like Emmett is holding me under some kind of spell. I can’t look away from his scowling face. His strong, clean-shaven jaw is twitching like he is trying not to grind his teeth too hard. And his brows are pinched together just as tightly as his lips are pressed shut. But what really draws me in are the stormy blue eyes now holding me hostage.

I should probably apologize, for both making him come out here tonight and the way I just spoke to him. Yet, I force my own lips shut and swallow back the apology sitting on my tongue. I don’t owe him anything.

He moves so quickly that I don’t have the time to even try to get away before his hands grab my upper arms, and he pulls me from the car. With only one flip-flop and my hands still cuffed behind my back, I’m so unsteady on my legs that I have no choice but to fall against his firm chest.

Turning my head away, I try to twist my body away from him, which only makes him dig his fingers deeper into my arms. I wince in pain, jerking from his touch. He suddenly lets go, and for a second, I think I’m going to fall back against the car. Emmett grabs me once more. This time, around my hip. Then he lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder so roughly it knocks the wind out of me.

“Wait!” I croak after I catch my breath. “My friend. I need to pick her up.”

“I already sent someone to get Gia,” Emmett says casually while carrying me back to his car.

“What? How do you know my friend’s name… or where she is?”

“Forget about her; you have yourself to worry about now.” His voice is low and gravelly, promising pain and whatever else he has planned for tonight.

His threat hangs heavy in the air as he lowers me to my feet, just to shove me into the back of another car. I almost hit my forehead on the door, but Emmett pulls me back just in time, sitting me up before sliding in next to me.

Someone else is sitting in the driver’s seat. Like Emmett, he is wearing a dark suit, his hair is cut neat, and his shoulders are broad and muscular.

“Sir?” he asks.

“Home,” Emmett growls out the order.

The driver pulls onto the highway, and I awkwardly try to sit sideways with my hands still tied together behind my back. I turn away from Emmett, looking out the window into the black night.

“Lean back,” Emmett orders, grabbing my shoulder. If it wasn’t for his hand pulling me toward him, I wouldn’t think I even heard him right.

“What are you…?” The words get lodged in my throat when the side of my head meets his warm thigh. Suddenly, my mouth goes dry. What the hell is he doing? His fingers wrap firmly around my throat, not tight enough to restrict my breathing but tight enough to have me worried.

I’m facing him now, trying to look anywhere besides his crotch, which is only a few inches away. Squeezing my eyes shut, I concentrate on calming my breathing and not passing out. Closing them helps only a little because I can still feel his hands on me. Still smell his spicy cologne and hear his heavy breathing.

Fuck, he must be angry. Who knows what I interrupted him doing tonight? My thoughts are running rampant with scenarios of how his night started and how mine is going to end.

My mind comes up with many outcomes… and none of them are good.

Chapter Three

Gwen

Istartle awake, disoriented and panicked because I don’t know where I am.

“Relax.” Emmett’s gravelly voice vibrates through me, and I’m catapulted back into reality.

I’m still lying across the back seat of his car, cuffed, half-naked, and with my head propped up on his legs. His hand is still on my neck, but it’s cradling the side now, his thumb softly stroking my jawline.

For a moment, I wonder if I actually fell asleep or if he choked me out without me realizing it. I wouldn’t put it past him.

“We’re almost there.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Home.” I know right away he’s lying. If he were taking me back to my apartment, we would have been there already.

“This is not the way to my place.”

“Your new home,” he explains calmly.

---