by Krista Wolf
I had to laugh at the name, but he wasn’t making it up. Best Number One Kitchen had moved in a few months ago, boldly declaring themselves both best and number one.
“We already placed the order. All you have to do is pick it up.”
“Why can’t you—”
“Because Dakota and I have a video conference in ten. Colonel Sciana’s orders. Something important that can’t wait till’ tomorrow.”
I really didn’t want to go out. It was already late. But they’d given me the one excuse I couldn’t argue with.
“What about…”
I nodded over my shoulder, to where Sammara had just come in. She’d literally just thrown her keys on the kitchen counter, but I didn’t care.
“She can take you,” Kyle said. “It’s raining anyway, so you can’t take your bike.”
I glanced at Sammara. The last thing I wanted was to go for a ride into town, especially with her.
“Forget it,” I snarled. “Give me your keys and I’ll go alone. I’ll take the—”
“No.”
Kyle’s look was uncharacteristically firm. Behind him Dakota nodded defiantly, his giant forearms crossed.
“Go,” Kyle said. “Talk to her.”
Ah, shit.
I knew what they were doing, what they were trying to accomplish. Arguing with them wouldn’t get me anywhere. I could refuse to go, but the truth is I was hungry. We all were. Even though it was late, none of us had eaten.
I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, fine.”
I whirled on Sammara, who looked back at me in surprise. “Grab your keys again. We’re going to pick up food.”
She blinked. “We… we are?”
“Yes. And I’m driving.”
I held out my hand expectantly, waiting for the keys to her jeep. Already knowing the probable outcome.
“Like hell you are.”
We drove in silence for the first twenty minutes. To say it was awkward would’ve been an understatement. It was more like… physically painful.
“Listen,” I finally said. “I might’ve overreacted yesterday.”
She didn’t move, didn’t speak. It was like looking at some beautiful statue, frozen in place, two hands on the steering wheel and her long legs working the pedals.
The wind blew her hair in every direction, including straight back against her face. She didn’t even flinch. She looked used to it.
“I shouldn’t have fired Edward,” I said. “In fact, I’ll call him tomorrow and hire him back.”
At this her gaze shifted in my direction. Her expression was still stoic.
“Sammara, I just said—”
“I know what you said,” she barked coldly. “And I appreciate it. But what’s done is done. Hell, I don’t even know if we can get him back.”
“I’ll get him back,” I said confidently.
“There you go again,” she said. “You. You, not me. You.”
“That’s what I said, I’ll—”
“No, Ryan. I’ll call Edward. I’m the one running the reno. I’m the one who—”
“Got her ass grabbed?”
Sammara’s expression went ice cold. Her full, beautiful lips went so tight they looked more like a line drawn on her face.
Just stop talking Ryan.
I leaned back, hanging an arm out the window. It had stopped raining the moment we left the driveway. I regretted not telling her to turn around so I could go back and get my bike.
A long minute ticked by. Two minutes. I opened my mouth to say something, then abruptly stopped.
Maybe you should quit while you’re behind.
There was something about this girl that made me question myself. I didn’t like that part at all. At the same time though, I had a deep admiration for her. She could’ve just nodded and tried to placate me or even bury the fight in the past. Instead, she didn’t hold back. Whatever this woman said was exactly how she felt.
I respected that.
Our silence lasted all the way to Golden Star, where they didn’t have an order for Ryan Dunham. They didn’t have an order for Kyle Murphy, or Dakota Bradley either. But when I rolled my eyes and ran down our list of shame-names? I found an order all ready to go for one Richard Head.
Back in the jeep, Sammara silently wound her way back through the city. The roads were still wet, with water pooling on the asphalt. It shone beautifully, reflecting the city lights.
“Listen, they want us to talk,” I said.
Sammara’s face was a little less stern. Still serious, but a tiny bit less angry than before.
“They sent us on this little trip to work things out. So if you’re going to sit there and just—”
I stopped abruptly because something caught my eye. I looked again, in the side-view mirror, and there it was.
A sleek black SUV. Following us.
Might be just coincid—
And another behind it.
Fuck.
“Just what?” Sammara was asking. Her tone was still cold, but apparently now there was room for discussion. “Sit there and just what?”
I didn’t respond. I waited until the next turn… and the SUVs turned with us.
“So you’re gonna go quiet on me now?” she remarked snidely. “Is that it?”
“No.”
“Then talk, Ryan. Let’s figure out why you—”
“Turn left.”
Sammara stared over at me, wholly confused. “We have to go straight here, not—”
“I said turn left. NOW.”
I reached for the wheel. Before I could get there Sammara pulled a hard left turn, no directional, no warning. The jeep glided into the darkened sidestreet, away from the main avenue. And behind us…
Behind us both vehicles made the same turn.
“Climb into my lap.”
Sammara laughed haughtily. “Are you kidding?”
“Do it.”
“If you think I’m just going to—”
BUMP!
We were hit hard, straight from behind. Not hard enough to cause us to crash. But hard enough to send a message: pull over.
“Sammara listen to me!” I cried. “Keep the wheel straight, keep your feet off the pedals, and climb over me, into my lap.”
Her face still registered the shock of being hit. She glanced into the rear-view mirror, and for a split-second I thought she would pump the brakes and pull over. Instead, to her credit, she regained her composure and did exactly what I said.
“Good, now let me slide under you.”
We switched positions. It happened easily, effortlessly. Almost like we’d practiced it before.
“Now hang on!”
Twenty-Nine
SAMMARA
Ryan’s hands gripped the wheel as he floored the gas pedal. The jeep lurched forward just as the SUV behind us was coming in for another hit. This time it missed.
“What’s going on!”
I shouted it out loud, probably a little too frantically. But this was my jeep! And whoever was driving the big black Suburban obviously wanted to ram us off the road.
Ryan tore down the sidestreet, then spun through the next main intersection. I felt the jeep threaten to roll. I could envision it coming up on two tires…
“Who are those people?” I cried, grabbing for my seatbelt. “Did I cut someone off? Is someone mad at something I—”
“No.”
Ryan spat the word through clenched teeth. His knuckles clenching the wheel were white. His eyes were darting back and forth through the evening traffic, looking for an out. Searching for an opening in the—
SCREEEECCCCH!
I flew left as he turned right, nearly flipping us in the process. Chinese food flew everywhere. Hot and steaming, it rained down over him on the driver’s side of the vehicle, leaving Ryan covered in House Mei Fun.
I grabbed for my phone. Went to dial 911.
“NO.” Again he denied me without looking over.
“But the police
—”
“I said no, Sammara.”
He turned again, and I risked a glance back. All the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. There were two SUVs, not one.
Holy shit!
The jeep skidded sideways, and the phone flew from my hands. It skipped over my shoulder, landing somewhere in the darkness of the back seat.
“They’re gonna kill us!” I cried. “They’re going to—”
“They don’t want us dead,” Ryan said. “They just want to… talk to us.”
I blinked in confusion and fear. “Y—You know these guys?”
“No,” Ryan admitted. “But I know who they might be.” He bored down hard on the gas pedal, revving the engine. We were on a long, straight avenue. The speedometer was coming up on seventy miles per hour.
I gulped hard, then reached for his seat belt. Pulling it across his body, I buckled him in.
“Thank you.”
I nodded numbly, still terrified. Still not sure who these people were, or what they wanted, or why Ryan tried to keep me from calling the police.
“Big turn coming,” he warned. “Grab something.”
I grabbed one of the jeep’s ‘oh shit’ handles just as Ryan jerked the wheel. We fishtailed left, the tires spinning wildly before they finally caught again. When I looked up we were in a small, narrow alley. I could hear the sound of tires screaming somewhere behind us, followed by a loud crash, and the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.
“Got one,” Ryan said.
My mouth was wide open. I was staring at him in utter disbelief. There was almost a smile on his face now. Like some smirk of accomplishment.
“Just sit tight,” he told me. “I think I can lose them in the—”
“LOOK OUT!”
Ryan reacted instantly, jamming the brakes, slowing us down just enough to avoid being obliterated by the oncoming box truck. My jeep slid through the red light, narrowly missing two other cars, before he lifted his foot and punched the gas again.
My heart was trapped in my throat. I was too stunned to speak, but Ryan still looked as cool and calm as when the whole thing had started.
“Good call.”
I felt sick. Queasy. Frightened.
“Sit up,” he told me. “I need your eyes. Let me know when they’re gaining. And if you see more of them.”
The words registered in my head, but for a second or two they held no meaning.
“More of them?”
Ryan turned again, and this time we came within inches of a long brick wall. I gasped and sat up. Turned around. Looked…
“We’re a block ahead,” I told him. “Maybe a block and a half.”
“Let me know when we’re two or three.”
I had to give him credit; the man could drive. Still, the jeep had a high center of gravity. Its wheel base wasn’t meant for hard turns — it was the main reason all models came with a roll bar. But Ryan knew the limitations of my vehicle as if he’d designed, built, and raced it all his life.
“Okay…” I said, looking over my shoulder. “Almost… Almost…”
There were still quite a few cars on the road, but two lanes. Ryan zipped in and out of them nimbly, cutting people off, eliciting honked horns and causing the offended drivers to brake hard, further congesting the pathways behind him.
“Alright NOW!”
He cut the wheel again, sliding us into another alley. Rice flew. Soup rained down on us, so hot it felt scalding. But we made the turn. Dripping wet, yes, but we were still okay.
All at once Ryan hit the brakes and my jeep skidded to a hard stop. The two of us both turned in the same direction, our heads side by side as we looked out the back window…
Through the narrow mouth of the alley, we saw the black SUV speed past us.
“Thank God,” I breathed.
The jeep started rolling again, this time slowly. Ryan threaded it down two more alleys and another sidestreet, until finally he saw something that made his eyes light up.
“Ah. There.”
He pulled into a tiny parking garage. The little machine spat an automated ticket, the gate went up, and we glided up the ramp and into the shadows.
“What are we doing?”
“Laying low.”
The garage was poorly-lit, but mostly full. With the ceilings so low, the whole thing felt claustrophobic.
“I still don’t know why we couldn’t just call the police.”
Ryan only shook his head. A thin piece of noodle hung from his beard.
“Later.”
Three levels up we found a spot. Ryan slipped the jeep between a big Yukon and a Lincoln Navigator, effectively burying us from sight.
He killed the engine, and for a relieved moment we sat in total silence. My poor jeep smelled like the inside of a busy Chinese restaurant.
“Do you trust me?”
He held out his hand. This time I didn’t hesitate — I immediately took it.
“Yes.”
“Good,” he said, clicking the door open. “Then let’s go.”
Thirty
SAMMARA
It was the same shitty motel room you’d get anywhere in the world — cheap paneled walls, worn carpet, popcorn ceilings. A bed built for one thing — endurance — and a television so old you had to wonder if it was the first color model ever made.
Right now I sat on the half-dead mattress, wondering what the hell had just happened. My heart was still racing. Only now, to tell the truth, I felt more thrilled than frightened.
The shower was noisy, but it was comforting to know Ryan was only a room away. He’d received the full brunt of the Chinese food’s aerial assault, and I’d only gotten off with a mild sprinkling. After washing up with a soapy towel and cleaning a few spots off my sundress, I was no worse for wear. Ryan however required a full-on scrubbing, but not before bolting the motel room’s door and telling me to steer clear of the windows.
Someone had chased us halfway across the city.
Someone bad.
I still didn’t know what was going on, but I was grateful to be out of it. Leaving any time tonight could be dangerous, especially if they were still looking for us, which Ryan assured me they would be.
“We’ll hole up there until morning,” he’d said, pointing to the flickering lights of the Sunbeam Motel. “By then they’ll have given up looking for your jeep.”
I had a million questions — questions that I’d held onto for now. But as the shower stopped, and I heard the sound of the curtain being pulled open? They all jumped back in my head again.
Ryan emerged in a way too small towel, his mostly-naked body dripping water. He looked utterly magnificent. My eyes crawled over his big shoulders, down along the yummy muscles of his arms and chest. They moved past that, across the smooth mocha expanse of his ripped abdominals.
I had to stop and re-evaluate. Because to be honest? I’d underestimated his hotness.
“Get a good look?”
I didn’t even bother trying to hide my stare. He was my boyfriend, after all. Or at least he was supposed to be.
“No,” I quipped. “Why don’t you turn around so I can see the back.”
To my surprise he did, and I looked some more. He had a wonderfully trim waist. A perfectly bubbled yet masculine ass, that I strained to see through the towel. Ryan even held his arms up, showing off his well-muscled back. For the next four or five seconds I became religious, praying that gravity would do me a favor and the towel would fall away.
“Why are we here?” I asked finally. “And who the hell were those guys?”
Ryan pursed his kissable mouth, looking down as if considering how much to reveal. In the end he only squinted back at me without answering anything.
I was starting to get mad again. “Does this have something to do with Briggs?”
His expression changed after the question. There was surprise there, no doubt. But also, an admiration.
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me what?�
�
Slowly he shook his head. I knew in an instant it was the best answer I was going to get.
“Well let’s at least call Kyle and Dakota,” I suggested. “Get them down here, to pick us up.”
“Already did that,” said Ryan. “All three of us agreed the best thing to do is sit tight until morning.”
“All three of us?” It was infuriating. “What about me? Do I even get to be involved?” I bounced up from the bed. “Do I get a vote here?”
He stood toe to toe with me, eye to eye. “What kind of vote do you want, Sammara?” he snarled. “Please, tell me now. Because it seems no matter what I do, you’re mad about it.”
I was close enough to smell his body now, all clean from the shower. His eyes glowed. I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips.
“I do wrong and you’re mad,” cried Ryan. “I apologize and you’re still mad. There’s no winning with you. You’re pissed at everything!”
“I’m pissed at you!” I practically screamed back in his face. “You let me in the other night, and then you push me away. You make a date with me, and then ruin it with the sub-contractor!” I was staring back at him. Not giving a single inch. “And now here we are, stuck in this piece of shit motel, and you’re pulling rank?” I laughed in his face. “Hate to break it to you Ryan, but I don’t work for you! I’m not one of your subordinates! In fact, I’m the only one who—”
He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me against him. It happened with lightning speed. One moment I was shouting into his face… the next moment we were kissing so hard our teeth clacked together.
Oh shit…
It was raw. Savage. Totally fierce, but also totally hot. Our tongues met immediately, as if they’d been destined to all along, and our lips churned so violently against one another it was becoming difficult to breathe.
What the hell is happening?
I was losing it. Surrendering completely as his arms slid around me. My brain screamed at me to stop, to just open my mouth and start ripping into him for the callous asshole he was. But my body…
My body completely overruled it.
Instead I let go, allowing Ryan to continue our fiery kiss as he crushed me against him. I felt ambrosial. Totally and completely lost in the moment. Unwilling to stop, or breathe, or say a single, solitary word that might jeopardize the waves of forbidden, heated pleasure now rippling through my body.