Page 15 of Tied in Knots
I launch my body to the right to get as far away from him as I can while I steady myself on my feet, but I see another one, the dark haired one from the train station, standing in my path.
“You are not escaping me this time,” he growls. His voice is deep, low, kind of sexy, if I wasn’t scared stiff.
“I’m not going back!” I yell at him and duck under his outstretched hands, surprising him.
“You are a slippery little thing, aren’t you?” he snarls, using the momentum of him falling forward to turn and right himself.
“I’m not going back to that prick!” I scream. “You will have to drag my dead body back to him!”
Running as fast as I can, which isn’t as fast as I’d like. I’m exhausted, afraid, panicking, not to mention hungry and thirsty, and heading in the opposite direction. The blonde one who spotted me a few minutes ago is there, grabbing my arm roughly and bringing me to a dead halt. I reach out and scratch the skin of his hand that is clutching my arm.
He hisses, his eyes narrowed in fury.
“Please!” I beg, suddenly losing all the fight. “Please don’t take me back.” I start to sob and draw in a breath that hitches when I inhale his scent. He smells like the ocean.
“Back where?” he yells at me, as I start to struggle again, but this time, I’m picked up from behind and hauled off my feet.
“No! No! Help! Someone help me!” I shout, but there is no one there to help me.
The marshmallow scent hits me again, only making me sob harder.
“Stop, lass,” the great big Scot who has me in his paws like a doll, says to me as I strike out with my hands and feet, hearing the thump of shoe on skin. “Fuck, you’re a hellion!” he snaps, but it doesn’t sound irritated, more amused.
“I’m not going back to that prick!” I yell again, this time right in his ear as he swings me over his shoulder, fireman style, making me go dizzy with the motion and feel a bit sick. He rests one hand on my arse and the other bunches in the back of both legs of my jeans, in an effort to stop me from kicking him.
He is strong.
And so, so tall. Six-five, maybe?
I can see the ground from all the way up here, slung over his shoulder like a sack of spuds, and I stop struggling. If he drops me from this height, I’ll break when I hit the ground.
“Is she secure?” dark-hair, woodsy-rain-scent thunders.
“She’s not going anywhere, are you petal?” Marshmallows asks.
“You fuck!” I shriek like a banshee, wiggling around again, but all it does is make him laugh. Probably because my arse is jiggling around near his face, while my hands claw at his back. I’m upside down and this is not good.
“Jesus Christ,” a really posh voice sighs.
I glance towards it and see it’s Hazel eyes from the station. He sounds like Hugh Grant.
“It’s a good thing you are worth it,” he adds, coming up to me and bending down to look at me, his face upside down next to mine.
“Please don’t send me back,” I sulk, knowing I’m beat. Four alphas is not a fight I can win.
“Back where?” Woodsy-rain asks.
I blink and slam my lips shut.
Back where?
I get the sinking feeling that Pete didn’t send them, and if that’s the case, I’m about to be abducted off the street by four weirdos. I’d take going back to Pete any day when the reality of my current, undignified situation hits me.
With my arse stuck up in the air, Marshmallows starts walking forward and in my panicked state, all I can think isplease don’t fart in his face.
I would die.
Literally die.
