Page 54 of Crybaby

Rev suddenly appears. “It’s time to go.”

The truck is quiet as it seems both Darcie and I need some silence after what just happened back at the farmhouse.

I don’t know whether to be turned on or traumatized by what I saw—maybe a little of both.

I knew she’d snap sooner or later. And when she did, it wouldn’t be pretty. But her nearly killing that asshole was something else…

My dick twitches at the thought.

There is just something so fucking…hot about a woman taking control and owning the ass of a chump three times her size. And with her fuck-off clothes and fuck-off attitude, I don’t stand a chance.

“What are you looking at?” she says, snapping me from my thoughts. I didn’t even know I was looking at her.

She’s leaning back in her seat, her knee bent as she rests her boot on the edge of the chair. She has no idea how beautiful she looks. She also has no idea that her rage is just the tip of the iceberg. There is so much more to come.

“Are you hungry?”

Not only did we steal this truck but we also robbed that asshole of everything we need—food, water, clothes, gas, and money. We don’t need to hit a store because our truck is filled with supplies.

Darcie unbuckles her seat belt and reaches into the back, rifling through the bags of food. I hear the crinkle of a packet and know she’s gone for the bag of Lay’s. She slumps back into her seat, not bothering to fasten her seat belt, and rips open the bag.

She takes one out, looks at it, but then tosses it back into the bag, changing her mind. Her emotions are running riot, which is why I don’t know what to do.

Like I said, this is just the beginning. And I don’t know what to do about it.

Should I help her like I said I would? Or should I be the one who sees reason in an unfair world?

“Do you think that chick is going to call the cops?”

All I caught was her naked ass falling out of the window, but from the state of the room, I know that whatever happened in there can’t be good.

“Probably,” I reply, keeping my eyes on the road. “Shewasheld hostage in the house out ofTexas Chainsaw Massacre.”

“I don’t get it,” Darcie says, and I arch a brow.

“Don’t get what?”

“How could she not have wanted to kill that bastard after what he did?”

I understand her anger. The need to hurt anything like she was hurt. She needs to take back what was stolen to try to heal.

“I suppose she was more concerned about getting out alive than revenge.”

Biting her thumbnail, Darcie is quiet, appearing deep in thought. “All I could think about was making that fucker bleed.”

“Darcie—” But she doesn’t let me finish.

Instead, she reaches for the steering wheel and violently turns it so we are now driving on the opposite side of the road.

I try to fight her off, but she bites down on my wrist. “Live a little, Rev.”

When I attempt to stomp onto the brake pedal, she is like a damn spider monkey, crawling all over me so I can’t move or see a damn thing.

She straddles my waist, her front facing me and blocking my view. I am literally driving blind into oncoming traffic, or we are seconds away from careening down a steep embankment.

But if this is what she wants…

“Okay then, little rabbit,” I calmly say, lifting my hands off the steering wheel, eyes locked on hers. “You choose whether we live or die.”

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