Page 116 of Delinquents Turned Fugitives
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Every news stationplayed the footage of the attack on a loop that afternoon. The titles for the online articles were as lyrical and lovely as any song. “Mourning Daughter Accosted By Police Officer,” “Pinnacle Officer Uses Illegal Honesty Amulet And Attacks Girl,” “Officer Suspended After Attack Caught on Video.”
We sat under the picnic awning, watching clip after clip, flipping from station to station. The attack had even made the international news on some of the magical stations.
Teddy Hall was a hero. He’d swooped down with his camera, yelling for help, as Claude and Muller choked me. I’d covered myself in shadows, so that Claude’s icy fingers couldn’t penetrate my skin and he couldn’t move his possession from that dick detective to me.
I’d been able to stop that, but not the choking.
Teddy had really stepped up. He’d shot out ice, encasing Muller’s broad shoulders in huge blocks that looked like frozen football pads, cutting off the blood flow to asshole detective’s hands and weakening him until his grip slackened and I could breathe.
Teddy had shot fire at his ass for good measure and the sight of Muller’s pants on fire became our favorite clip of the day. Every time it finished, Z used his magic to rewind the computer and replay it, laughing until he had tears in his eyes.
“Please, let me save it to my phone. I need this picture to pop up when Hayley calls,” Z begged Gray.
“Nope.” Gray smiled but was firm in his refusal as he sat at one of the adjacent picnic tables and looked over gas station maps and Institute floor plans for tonight. My prankster was so grown up and business-like, already double-checking that he had three different possible escape routes for the evening’s jaunt over to the institute.
Meanwhile, Evan and Andros kept stopping by the spot where I sat on the grass. They came by with ice packs, ice cream, salve, tea—Evan had made a supply run for “first aid” supplies after the incident, because Joyland didn’t have much of those in stock. They bent over me every few minutes to examine my neck.
I’d gotten a pretty purple ‘choker’ out of the escapade, which had been a closer call than I’d ever admit to them. While Teddy was the official public hero, the only reason my windpipe hadn’t been crushed was because Andros had rewound Muller by milliseconds each time I’d stopped screaming. He knew and I knew that I’d played chicken and come close to crashing and burning.
It was worth it.
Evan, on the other hand, was just a mother hen.
But he wasmymother hen and the ice cream and foot rubs aspect of his fussing was nice, so I let him do as he pleased.
He’d written a Healing Spell for me, but I’d absolutely refused the offers from Z and Andros to help speed it up.
“You need your magic at full power for tonight,” I’d told them.
Eventually, I’d even shooed Evan away, telling him to go practice writing spells that would jam up norm guns. “We’ll have enough magic obstacles to overcome, I don’t want to deal with guns, too.”
“Sure thing.” He’d pecked my lips and gone off to practice.
Andros had found me outside after I’d run to the bathroom and given me a quick “power up” that was hot as hell. He’d grabbed my shoulder while I was walking and slammed me into the brick wall, up against a mural that endorsed the deliciousness of corn dogs. He had loomed over me, backlit by the afternoon sun.
His kiss had crushed my lips and my heart, crumpling my protests like a soda can beneath his foot. He’d nipped at my lips before he’d reached out and tweaked my nipples. “I’m taking you right here, right now,” he’d whispered.
And without further preamble, Andros had pushed down the stretchy, black yoga pants I’d been lounging in.
Right in the middle of an open walkway.
In mid-afternoon.
His thick fingers had slid aside my panties and teased me until I’d started shaking in his hold.
“Someone will see,” I’d whispered nervously.
“Let them watch,” he’d growled.
For some reason, his naughty disregard for getting caught had only made me hotter even though I glanced nervously down the hall every few seconds, both wanting to get caught and not wanting ‘getting caught’ to ruin the mood, unable to decide between the two.
His fingers thrummed on my clit and tapped my g-spot at the same time, making me gasp as I got close.
“Wait for me,” he’d ordered, sliding his fingers slowly out of me and then unbuckling his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his massive cock. He’d slowly impaled me, his hands sliding down my legs and hitching over the back of them, lifting me up and pressing me into the wall so he could thrust deeper.
One hand had teased my ass while he stroked. And when he commanded me to touch my own clit, I’d come almost instantly.
