Page 56 of Whips and Chains
Her dark brows furrowed. “All the more reason for me to come. You need someone to have your back.”
I sighed at the couple fucking standing up against the emergency exit. How was I supposed to get out now? They were fully into it, eyes closed, tongues and lips and hands all over each other, slow pumps into the woman’s body while her head hit the door.
I couldn’t just tap her on the shoulder and ask her to delay her orgasm so I could get by.
“Excuse us,” Nyah announced. “We need to get by, please. You’re blocking the exit.”
The couple didn’t pay us any attention. They were too lost in grinding on each other, the scent of alcohol and sweat and sex wafting off them, wrinkling my nose.
Nyah reached around me pushed down on the handle, sending it flying open.
Without the door to lean on, the couple staggered out into the dark parking lot, completely naked, his dick still buried deep inside the woman.
That got their attention. He shouted at us, and my immediate reaction was to start apologizing, but Nyah grabbed my arm and dragged me past them, her middle finger up.
“We asked you politely!”
Vincent turned our way, his attention caught by the commotion.
Ah shit, my babysitter was on to us.
“Run,” I said, grabbing Nyah’s arm. “We’re about to get busted.”
My heart pounded, even though I knew Vincent wouldn’t hurt me. But the thought of him forcing me to stay here was just as bad. Getting locked in Psychos suddenly felt as claustrophobic as the warehouse a madman had locked me in. My skin crawled at the thought of it, my chest tightening like a vise.
Nobody was locking me in anywhere.
I scanned the parking lot, noting X’s van and Levi’s bike, but Whip’s car was noticeably missing. I caught a glimpse of taillights turning out onto the road and the silver sedan he drove. “Shit! They’ve already left.”
“We can catch them. My car is right here.”
And that’s when I realized that Nyah was wearing nothing more than her tiny skirt and barely-there top. We hadn’t stopped to get her coat or her purse.
“Your keys…” I watched, frustrated, as Whip’s car disappeared around the corner.
Nyah opened the door of her car. “Girl, please. I’m from farming country where everyone leaves their doors unlocked and their keys inside.” She flipped down the visor, and the keys dropped into her open palm.
I winced. “You know, around here, that’s a recipe to get your car stolen, right?” But I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I slid into the passenger seat and Nyah got in behind the steering wheel.
She grinned, her eyes flashing with excitement. “From what I hear, if someone wants to steal your car in Saint View, they’ll do it with or without the keys.”
She had a point. A locked car had never been a deterrent in this town.
Nyah gunned the engine like she was an F1 driver on the starting line and then slammed her foot down on the accelerator. Vincent, halfway across the lot to where we were, had to jump out of the way to avoid getting mowed down.
“Yeah!” Nyah fist pumped the air. “Ain’t nobody holding us down! Not even you, scary, brooding, bouncer dude!”
I cringed and waved an apologetic hand in Vincent’s direction.
Seemed smart to be polite to the psychopath.
But Nyah was hopped up on an adrenaline high and took the corner out of the lot in a screech of tires. I gripped the holy shit bar so tightly my knuckles went white and fought to keep my head from smashing into the window with the g-force she was creating.
“Don’t worry, Vi. I’m an awesome driver. I’ll catch up in no time.”
I widened my eyes at the speedometer, clicking up to the speed limit in seconds, until we were flying down the main strip of Saint View at about twenty over.
“Oh, I’m going to die,” I muttered, bracing myself against the dashboard.
