Page 2 of Taken By the Outlaw

My knees nearly buckle.

"Shut up," the leader snaps without looking away from me. He studies me for a moment longer, and I swear I see something shift in those ice-blue eyes. Interest, maybe. Or calculation.

"What's your name?" he demands.

"Emilia," I whisper. "Emilia West."

He nods once, as if confirming something to himself. "Emilia West, the librarian. Well, Emilia, you've created quite a problem for yourself tonight."

"I won't tell anyone," I promise quickly. "I didn't see anything. I don't?—"

"You're a terrible liar." His mouth quirks up at one corner, not quite a smile. "But that's not necessarily a bad thing."

I don't understand what's happening. Why isn't he more worried? Why is he looking at me like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve?

"Boss," the bearded man says urgently. "We need to move."

The leader—the boss—nods without taking his eyes off me. "Finish loading the van. I'll handle this."

My heart sinks. Handle this. I know what that means.

"Please," I whisper. "I have a family. My mom is sick, and my sister?—"

"Do you always talk this much when you're scared?" he interrupts, and there's a hint of amusement in his voice that makes me want to scream. How can he be entertained when I'm about to die?

"Only when I'm about to be murdered," I retort before I can stop myself.

Something flashes in his eyes—surprise, maybe even respect. Then he laughs, a sound so unexpected and rich it momentarily stuns me.

"I'm not going to kill you, little librarian," he says, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The casual intimacy of the gesture makes me flinch. "That would be a waste."

Behind him, the others have finished loading whatever they stole. The van's engine rumbles to life.

"Clark," one of them calls. "Now."

Clark. The leader's name is Clark. It seems too ordinary for someone like him.

Clark nods without looking away from me. "Change of plans. She's coming with us."

"What?" The word bursts out of me. "No, I can't?—"

His hand clamps over my mouth, and he pulls me against him with an arm around my waist. I'm crushed against his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his jacket.

"Listen carefully," he murmurs, his lips close to my ear. "You have two options. Come quietly, or I'll knock you out and carry you. Either way, you're coming with me."

Terror floods me, but beneath it is something else—a traitorous heat that flares where our bodies touch. What is wrong with me?

"I promise you'll be safe," he continues, so quietly I barely hear him. "But you're a liability I can't leave behind. Do you understand?"

I can't nod with his hand over my mouth, but something in my eyes must answer him because he slowly removes his hand.

"Why not just let me go?" I ask, my voice shaking. "I swear I won't?—"

"Because I don't believe you," he cuts me off. "And because I don't want to."

That last part hangs in the air between us, strange and heavy with meaning I can't decipher. Then his arm tightens around me, and he's leading me toward the van.

"Get in," he orders, opening the side door.

---