Blood stains Hawk’s shirt and sticks the fabric to his hard stomach. “I watched him sew up a horse last week. This needs stitches, and he has all the tools.”
Stitches.“I don’t need stitches,” I say, uncovering the bloody mess on my knee. “It’s fine. I just need a Band-Aid.”
“You need more than a Band-Aid, Bir—” He looks away and paces the room before glancing toward Hawk. “Stay here. I’ll get him.”
The room is quiet for a moment as Zee leaves. I’m not sure what he was going to say, but I get the feeling he’s holding back on a lot of things. Maybe it’s because he’s struggling with this. Maybe this isn’t who he is, and he’s realizing that now. Maybe he’ll change his mind and let me go.
Hawk draws in a deep breath and lies on the bed beside me, brushing his fingertips against my skin in comfort. “You’re okay.”
“I don’t want stitches, especially not from Moose. He looked pissed. What if he hurts me?”
He shakes his head. “He won’t hurt you. We wouldn’t let him hurt you.” His lips graze the top of my head in comfort, and warmth spreads through me again.
“Why are you so nice to me?” My eyes hold on his for a long moment, and something in the room shifts. My knee stops hurting, my heart aches, my thighs squeeze, my stomach hurts… and I want him to kiss me.
He leans in slowly, and soon my lips graze his with intent until the weight of his frame is heavy against my body and heat passes between us on full blast.
What’s happening?How is a man that looks like Hawk touchingme?Maybe he’s full of shit and the nice guy act is just a ploy to get me to cooperate.
The side door slams, and we pull away from each other in a quick instant, cold air rushing between us as Moose and Zee make their way into the room.
Side by side, Moose is a giant. Tall and wide with broad shoulders and a permanent scowl. His beard is long with salt and pepper strands, and he wears a baseball cap pulled down tightly. He pulls the rocker close to the edge of the bed and lowers his large frame down carefully as though he’s tired from a long day’s work.
“Can you fix this?” a concerned Zee asks as he shows Moose my leg.
“Sure can.” He bends down to grab a fishing box with supplies rattling inside.A fishing box? What could be in that box that would fix my leg?“The second you take that mask off.”
Zee shakes his head and looks away. “Get fucked, bro. I’m not taking the mask off. Give her the stitches.”
“Or what? Take the fuckin’ mask off,” Moose growls. “She needs the stitches, she’s already lost a fair amount of blood, but I’m not sewing her up until we put some of this bullshit to bed.”
I have no idea what’s happening, but it’s scaring me. Not only the part about the blood, but the argument happening at the foot of the bed. If these guys turn against each other right now, who knows what happens to me. I think Hawk would protect me, but that’s probably not all together true either. I’ve only known him for a few hours. That doesn’t garner me much sympathy when it’s me or some guys he felt comfortable kidnapping someone with.
Hawk sits up, his hand still in mine. “Guys, shut the fuck up. Moose, give her the stitches. We can argue about this later.”
Moose laughs and stands from the chair, taking his box of supplies with him. “Nah. Zee said we’d remain anonymous. Now, she knows my farm, my face, and God knows what else.” He glances toward Zee. “This was your idea and you’re the onlyone of us she doesn’t know. Take the fuckin’ mask off or I’ll rip it off your fuckin’ head.”
Zee stalks back and forth, tugging on the ghost mask as though he’s thinking over his options. My stomach twists and tightens as he shifts his arm upward and the flash of a Paul Newman Rolex catches my eye.
Owen! Did this guy hurt Owen? Oh God, what if the police aren’t coming? What if these people hurt Owen?My heart hammers hard as my breath quickens.
The man in the mask steps toward me, his hand reaching out for mine, but I pull away. “Where did you get that watch?”
The man sighs and stares toward me, his eyes still concealed. “I’m sorry, Birdie. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
Birdie?
He pulls the mask up over his head and stares with big, brown eyes wide with sorrow. “I,” he sighs as though the words are caught in his throat, “saw theFantasy Driverthing the night before we talked and I knew when I saw the bid amount that you wouldn’t quit, so I got some guys together to hide you until the whole thing was over. They were supposed to give it another day. I thought you’d change your mind last night when we talked, but… well, here we are.”
Words scatter in my head, but nothing comes out. I’m not sure anything will ever come out again.Owen? How could he do this? How could he have me taken so violently? How could he… drug me. Who is he anymore?
His hand moves up my leg and onto my arm. “I know you’re thinking about the money, and I’m working on that. Moose approved the bid, so we’ve got until tomorrow to think on our next move.”
I gasp as Moose pours cold alcohol over the cut on my knee. “What? Why did you do that? If I don’t show up, I still owe the money, Owen. What the hell were you thinking?”
He sighs and stands straighter, locking his hand in mine as though we’re still best friends. “You aren’t going to owe anyone anything. I’m taking care of it.”
“Taking care of what? You’re not going to talk some perv out of an experience like this. These guys have been talking me up for months, watching my videos, getting hungry. I owe them, and if I don’t show up, I owe the buyer his money and a penalty charge.” My eyes widen. “Ahugepenalty charge. We’re talkingthirtypercent of the total paid.” My chest tightens even thinking about it.