She turns green. “A tracker? Like… like from my dad? How’d you find it?”
I shrug. “It was where I would’ve put it.”
I blow air into the bag itself and snap it shut before turning around.
“Wait! Wai-wai-wai-wai-wait.” She tries to run after me, but my strides are longer, and I’m already at the ledge looking downat the river below us. “Please, don’t do what I think you’re gonna?—”
I chuck the bag into the river before she can stop me.
She skids to a halt on the slick dirt. My heart leaps to my throat, and I catch her with an arm around her waist, holding her to me with her back to my front. Her breaths heave, and my pulse still hammers over how that could’ve ended.
My forehead hangs for a moment, pressing against her nape, and my hands squeeze her tighter. She doesn’t seem to notice, and when my head raises again, I find her eyes locked on the bag as it tosses in the waves, bobbing along until it disappears over a distant waterfall.
“What did youdo?”
The hopelessness in her pleaalmostmakes me feel bad. But then I remember why it was necessary.
“I did what I had to. That waterfall at the end could take that bag and the tracker in it all the way to the New River. With that current? Your family will think we’re two states away by morning.”
I easily pick up her limp, defeated body, and carry her back to the car. Shit, I hate the way she’s giving up. But I had to do it.
At the crossover, I set her on her feet. Her gaze stays on the ledge, so I lift her chin to face me.
“Now they can’t find you. You’re mine, Luna Bordeaux, and I fight for what’s mine. The Wildes, the Phantom of the French Quarter, anyone who tries to get in between me and my bride.Includingyou.”
“You’re a monster,” she seethes.
Thunder rolls, and lightning flashes through the dusk, making me realize how dark it’s gotten.
A fat raindrop smacks me in the forehead. “Call me what you want, but be a good girl and get back in the car.”
I reach for the door, but she stomps in front of it. Rain pelts us, cascading down her forehead and clinging to thick, black lashes that frame the return of that obstinate fire surging through her veins faster than the river beyond the ledge.
“I know that look.” I arch my brow. “You’re about to do something reckless.”
“You don’t know ‘my looks,’” she spits.
“The fuck I don’t. I’ve seen that one plenty of times. Two instances off the top my head? A year ago… and last night.” I step closer. “Right before I felt your pussy clench around my fingers for the first time.”
Her rosy cheeks make me think the shiver racking through her has nothing to do with the rain dripping down her chest and into her bodice. I lick my lips.
She swallows, trying to keep her composure, then says, “You know what? I’m ready to tell you what I wished for back at the tunnel. It has to do with why I didn’t run. Wanna hear?”
I snort. Thunder rolls ahead. I’ve gotta get us out of here before low visibility and mudslides make the roads too treacherous, but this is too fun, and now I’m curious.
“Sure, I’ll bite, birdie.”
Her lips curve into a sinfully wicked smile that I’ll now strive to see every day of the rest of my life.
“Yourbirdiewished she could fly away from you.”
My brows shoot up as she presses against me, one sharp nail jabbing into my left pec.
“So that’s what I’m gonna do. First, I’m escaping. Then I’m coming back with an audience to watch me stab you with my pointe shoe shank.”
My grin goes lopsided. “That’s quite some plan. Except…” I snap my fingers and frown. “Shucks. Now that you’ve told me, your wish won’t come true. Too bad.”
She smiles sweetly. Something silver glints in her closed fists as she draws them back. “Watch me.”