Page 42 of Baited

“Riley, you were just in a bad accident.”

Her hand grasped his, which rested on the console. “Ethan, please. I just want to go home…with you. I’m okay, really.”

He caught a droplet of blood on his fingertip and held it out to her. “You hit your head good.” He leaned closer, but couldn’t see in the dim shadows. “I think there’s a gash near your hair.”

She pulled out of his reach. “I’m fine. I didn’t even black out, I promise. Please, get me out of here.” She flicked her gaze to the window, her attention scanned the outside.

Fuck, he hated that she was scared. He nodded his head in agreement, and turned the truck around to head back toward town. He was experienced enough to spot a concussion and would carry her in if she needed it.

Her fingers wiggled into his clenched fist. He tightened his hold; she was freezing. Keeping his eyes on the road, he brought her fingers to his lips and blew hot air on them. When he got her settled he’d call the cops.

“Did you get a plate number?” He ground the words out through the iron that had set in his jaw. It was a damn miracle she’d been able to walk away with little more than scratches and bruises.

“Ethan.” Her voice permeated his thoughts. Her hand tightened on his. He glanced at her. She stared at him, her faceashen. He’d been lost in thought of the what-ifs and had totally missed what she’d said.

He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Sorry, babe. Just thinking.”

“I didn’t get a plate number. After I hit the tree, he turned around and came back. He was going to get out, but headlights came down the road. He—”

“Shhh. He’s gone.”

“He’s going to come back.” Her voice was small.

He squeezed her hand. “We’re going to catch the bastard. When did you first notice him behind you?”

She let out a shaky breath. “Not long after I pulled onto the highway. The road had been empty when I turned onto it. He showed up a few minutes later.”

“He could have been waiting.” He rested his hand on her bare, sleek thigh. His fingers moved to caress her smooth skin. “Let’s not think about it right now, okay? We can talk more later. For now, I want you to rest your head.”

They entered the town limits, bringing him to Main Street and only a couple blocks from his house. If he had of lived farther… if he couldn’t have gotten to her as fast as he did… A hard lump formed in his throat. He couldn’t go there. If Riley was right and the bastard came back, he would have to get though Ethan first.

Her head turned to look out the window, her soft, shallow breaths barely audible over his raging blood. He turned down the road leading to his house. The overcast night obstructed the moon’s glow, making it darker than usual. She undid her seat belt before he put the truck into park.

“Wait a minute,” he rasped. He turned off the ignition and rounded the vehicle. He opened the passenger door and reached for her waist.

“Ethan, I can walk.” She wiggled out of his arms and reluctantly, he lowered her to her feet.

There was that damn armor of hers. Her hand closed in his though, and she leaned into his side as he led her up the short walkway. He lifted his elbow over her head to block the rain.

They went up the couple of steps to the front porch. Bugs swarmed around the covered outside light, seeking shelter from the storm. He inserted the key and swung the door open. One look around the messy kitchen brought his hand to his head. He bent to pick up his gym clothes from that morning that lay on the floor between the kitchen and laundry room. He tossed them at the washer and closed the door.

“What can I say, I’m a bachelor.” He shrugged.

She smiled. “It’s not that bad.” She slid her shoes off and stepped into the kitchen.

At least he’d put his supper dishes in the sink. The smell of hamburgers still lingered in the air.

“Smells yummy,” she said softly as she leaned over the dirty frying pan on the stove. Stepping between her and the appliance, he moved the pan to the sink.

“Are you hungry? There’s leftovers in the fridge.”

Her hand went to her stomach. “I’m starving. But I don’t think I can eat right now. Maybe later.”

The bright kitchen light revealed every scratch and abrasion on her creamy skin. His stomach constricted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” His hand fell to the slight curve at the small of her back as he led her through the living room and to the bathroom. Thankfully, he’d picked up this morning and only his tablet and laptop littered the couch and coffee table. He switched on the bathroom light and guided her to the closed toilet seat.

She sat, her feet crossed at the ankles, her hands rested on her thighs.

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