Page 10 of Vicious Savage

The Jekyll and I turn back in our seats, facing forward. This whole thing has not gone in the direction we had planned. At all. And we aren’t dealing with a dummy here. She may be in a world of trouble, but I can’t say her intelligence isn’t impressive.

She’s bunched her dark blonde hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, the black leather of her jacket a stark contrast against the milky white of her skin. Her face is devoid of any makeup, like it’s been freshly scrubbed of the harsh chemicals that one might find on a woman’s face during a night out. She’s beautiful in that earthy, girl next door type of way, her nose slightly upturned above her bow tie lips. Her beauty lies in the undeniable power she knows she wields with her confidence. This is a woman who can turn heads with the cool fixture of her eyes upon you, and can just as easily corrupt you with her innocence and vulnerability. She is lethal — of the dark and dangerous sort.

“So where are you headed?” she asks.

10

LUNA

Idon’t know how they found me. But they did. They came out of nowhere and unwittingly saved me while someone else was trying to kill me. Then the two men that had been following me around for days saved me fromthemwhen they tried to take me. My list of enemies is growing exponentially.

So I hitch a ride with the two men. The lesser of two evils, I believe. Safety in numbers and all that. I still don’t know who they are or what they want from little old me, but I have to take a risk and this is where I choose to lay my chips. They seem mighty curious though, asking a whole bunch of questions that I really don’t want to answer.

“You sure you don’t want to pick up any of your belongings?” One of the men asks me, as they fling their own duffels into the boot of their car. I shake my head quickly and open the door to get into the car; I just want to be out of this town.

Eight months. Eight months of living in near obscurity here in Arizona. I had just settled in, thinking I was home safe and there was no way they’d ever find me here. And I’m not exactly sure how they did, but for them to have come knocking on my door here meant they’d damn near find me anywhere, no matter where I went. That was now a given. And the only way I’d be safe from them was to find someone bigger to hide behind.

“You going to tell us who those men were that were after you?”

“You going to tell me who you are? Your names, perhaps?”

Mr Handsome raises his eyebrows at me. Obviously, he’s not used to people challenging him. The muscles roping his thick arms tell me he’s a man used to getting what he wants without anyone second guessing him. Especially not a woman. His ice blue eyes seem a beautiful contradiction against his brown hair and heavily stubbled face. They pierce through me, daring me to ask more questions.

“We have a long drive ahead of us,” he says, as his friend falls in behind the steering wheel. “Please tell me you’re not going to spend the entire time boring me with your incessant questions.”

“Rude, much? Where are we going?”

“Weare not going anywhere if you keep talking.”

“Well, at least a name,” I plead. “I can’t keep referring to you as Asshole number 1 and Asshole number 2 in my head.”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. His friend seems to take delight in the fact that I’ve pissed him off and he chuckles.

“I’m Attila…” he starts, then turns to his friend and frowns. “And this is TJ.”

‘TJ’, now the designated driver, looks up in surprise, and I know this can’t be his name. But whatever. I look at Attila. He didn’t pause when he told me his name, so he’s definitely Attila.

“Attila… as in Attila the Hun?” I ask. He rolls his eyes like he gets this question a lot.

He fixes me with a look that could melt the panties off another woman but does something entirely different to me. It stokes the fire deep within me that I’ve been putting out for a while now.

“No. As in Attila the Hunter.”

* * *

We pullout of the parking lot where we’ve changed cars and hit the freeway in an inconspicuous Ford Ranger that blends seamlessly with every other car on the road. These men must be well connected if they can place a call then head to a location where a car is just sitting there waiting for them.

A little after daybreak, we pull into a motel and TJ parks in the back where there’s no main road exposure. We haul our asses to the Reception and check in to two adjoining rooms, something Attila insists on, because apparently I’m now Public Enemy Number One and I need saving even from myself.

“Well, I’m Luna, if anyone is interested in my name,” I shrug, as we walk toward our rooms.

I don’t miss the look that passes between the men as they continue to walk. Why am I not surprised that they probably already know my name?

“You from around these areas?” TJ asks. He’s a less intimidating version of Vin Diesel, handsome and sexy in the way that only South American men can be.

“No.”

It’s a simple answer, and it’s the truth. But somehow, it doesn’t satisfy them.

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