Instead of following, the two guys checked themselves over, watching him and Ashley escape.
“Darius, you have really fucked yourself this time,” the short one called out.
He tossed another look over his shoulder and swore he saw them both smile.
Chapter 8
Ashley ran into the dark night and felt Darius follow her.
The fresh, cool air from outside was like a shock against the warm musty barn they had just left. She knew it wasn’t only her nose that was in shock, it was her entire body, her whole mind.
She didn’t understand any of this. Sure, farms got burglarized. Sometimes teenagers came through drunk and thought it would be fun to do some cow-tipping, but nobody had ever heard of actual poisoning and guns. The two men hadn’t even demanded anything, just pointed the gun at her and clicked off the safety like they did that sort of thing all the time.
Her hands had gone numb while pounding that guy with the stick. Her adrenaline rush kept her sprinting into the night. She headed for Janice’s house, Darius close on her heels, but skidded to a stop when she saw a truck she didn’t recognize, and more than one figure moving inside Janice’s dark house, the blinds now up.
Janice was gone for the whole night visiting one of her male friends. None of these suits with guns were even close to her type, not that there was any doubt in Ashley’s mind that these guys were part of the same crew as the ones in her barn.
What the hell?
Darius grabbed her arm, yanking her down onto the cool mud. The hill rise kept them from being seen by those above them.
“Why did they know your name?” Ashley demanded, breathing hard.
Darius stilled, but instead of answering her question, he said, “Where’s the closest phone line?”
Ashley knew he was dodging her question but answered his anyway. “In there,” Ashley whispered, motioning to Janice’s house. Most everyone had cell phones, of course, but cell service didn’t work out here pretty much at all.
“That’s not going to happen.”
She bit her lip, considering the options.
“Think. Where else?”
“Shut up,” Ashley said, “I am.” At this point, they probably had guys crawling over her little one room farmhouse. But maybe the ranch next door would be safe. It was used as a distillery now, making gin and whiskey in a big copper contraption that had always awed her. The ranch land itself wasn’t used for anything else and she had been in talks with the owners about leasing it for her own sheep. No one would be there this late, but the phone would still be working.
Her mind made up, she picked her way carefully around the base of the hillside. “The distillery,” she whispered back to Darius. He might not know what that meant, but he trusted her enough to follow. She looked back at him once and saw he was scanning in front, behind, above, and below them, making sure no one had yet spotted them.
She felt better having him at her back, but the time it took to pick their way around and then hike across the field gave her too much time to think. Did those guys actually know Darius? What if Janice came home after all? What were they doing to her sheep? Why were they doing any of this?
The half moon was a blessing, giving them just enough light to keep their steps safe while not making obvious shadows. When they reached the edge of the ranch, Darius held down the barbed wire to make it easier for her to climb over.
It was only an open field now between them and the distillery room.
“Shit,” Darius said.
Ashley saw what had caused his exclamation. A truck, headlights blazing, was coming down the lane and would soon arrive at the distillery.
“Maybe it’s the owners,” Ashley said, but the truck looked too new and shiny—it looked like the same truck that had been parked at Janice’s house a few minutes ago.
“Our luck is not that good,” Darius said.
“We get to the phone. Call 911. Then run and hide in the woods until help arrives,” Ashley said.
“It’s going to be locked.”
“I know where the key is.”
Darius considered her plan for a long moment as if trying to find a flaw in it, but then nodded.
They sprinted for the distillery doors. Their shoes pounded on the wet grass and, for the first time ever, Ashley slightly regretted her blue striped boots. They made running difficult. She pushed herself to keep up and went for the spare key under the special rock. All the neighbors knew how to get into each other’s places. It was standard procedure in case of emergency when taking care of livestock and important equipment to share the burden of that care.
She quickly opened the service door and they practically fell inside. The distillery was cold and almost pitch black.The air smelled like fermented grain and yeast.
Darius closed and locked the door behind them. “We can’t dare a light.”
“I know. Just wait here.” She could feel the frustration in his very breath. She knew he wasn’t the waiting kind of guy, but he also didn’t know where anything was in this place like she did.
She crept forward, knowing there was nothing in her way, but also fearing that somehow in the dark her brain would get the layout wrong. Her steps echoed on the cement floor. The distiller was completely silent and she could hear her own heart beat. Everything smelled sweet and acidic in this place, so different, yet still with a yeasty familiarity she was used to living with in the cheese room.
The phone hung on the wall. It was a vintage red phone with a curling cord the owner had picked at an antique store for fun. It was made out of actual painted metal parts. She felt for it, and picked up its cold metal receiver off the hook, not needing to see the number pad to dial 911.
She waited, breath held.
Nothing. What the hell. She hung up the phone, firmly clicking it into place to make sure it reset, and tried again, only this time she went slower.
Still nothing.
On the third attempt, she finally realized—no dial tone.
She had gotten so used to cell phones, she had forgotten what a land line was supposed to sound like.
“It doesn’t work,” Ashley said.
Darius swore. “Are you sure?”
“It was working just the other day. I was here when it rang. But it’s completely dead now. No dial tone.”
“They likely cut your line and got this one too,” Darius said.
Ashley nodded even though it was too dark for Darius to see it. “They’re all pretty much daisy-chained together and we’re before them in the line.”
Headlights blazed through the windows on the far wall of the distillery.
“We have to hide,” Darius said.
But the office was locked up, the shelves were empty of obstacles to hide behind, and the cask room was under padlock with a key that Ashley didn’t have. They wasted time searching for a hiding place and by the time both of them realized they should have made another run for it, there were people working at breaking through the door.
Darius took a stance in front of the door like somehow he was getting ready to hold back a flood. “Go hide behind the distiller itself. If you see a chance to escape. Do it.”
Ashley frowned as her stomach sunk. He couldn’t be serious. “They’ll kill you.”
Darius remained silent, not disagreeing with her. Panic fluttered in Ashley’s stomach. “Who are they? Why are they so ready to kill us?”
“Ashley, there isn’t time.”
Ashley bit her lip, thinking. “There has to be a way—”
The distillery had been so still and silent when they entered. It almost always had something cooking inside, but not always. Sometimes the machinery had to be cleaned—which meant sometimes it was empty.
“Please,” Darius said.
She crept toward the copper boiler. It stood taller than her head and had a porthole opening that allowed a person to climb in and clean it from the inside.
“Inside!” Ashley said, her voice low but fierce.
<
br /> She dragged a step ladder over to the porthole and opened it up. The copper container smelled faintly of liquor, but it was empty and big enough to fit two people—snugly.
She climbed inside, feeling the cool copper go slick against her skin. It was dark and echoed inside and they would have to basically not move a muscle, but it could work.
She stuck her head back out the porthole. “Drag your ass in here.”
There was more pounding at the door, like someone was working on the hinges. Darius backed up until he was beneath the porthole. “It won’t fit both of us.”
“It will,” Ashley said, though she worried he might be right. The problem would be getting his broad chest through. “Try it.”
He looked down at the step stool and pushed it aside. “Don’t want them to think up the same idea you did.”
She got out of the way as he lifted himself up in one smooth motion, feet first through the porthole opening. Carefully, almost like a gymnast on the rings, he twisted his hips, and then his chest through while Ashley guided his legs into a quiet landing.
Once he was inside, he reached back up and closed the porthole door until it was only open a crack. They both crouched to the bottom of the boiler as the outside door burst open.
Chapter 9
Darius tried to control his breathing, but it wasn’t working.
Three men, at least according to their voices and steps, had entered the distillery. The boiler was a good hiding spot. Easily large enough for the both of them now that he had fit inside.
The only thing was, he didn’t like cramped spaces.
Okay, it was more than that. Small spaces made him panic. The adrenaline rush had gotten him in here, but it took all his self-control to stay.
He told himself this wasn’t like in the past. This wasn’t anything like it was during his deployment. Even though there were guys with guns outside, like before. He tried to turn all senses to those outside the boiler, to locate their movements, but really, to use it to keep himself from falling apart.
His hands began to shake and he silently cursed.
The men outside spoke in a different language. Maybe Italian, maybe something else. He forced himself to pick through it though he didn’t know the language. He tried to think through the situation. He hadn’t let down his side of the bargain yet. It didn’t make sense that his employer for this job would have hired someone else to sabotage his work.
He figured that meant these people belonged to somebody else—to some sort of competition. But this competition was already a lot more ruthless than he cared for.
“Stop talking like that. When you’re in the US, you speak English you European mother-fuckers.” It was a voice Darius didn’t recognize. Clearly American, and in control, because the other two guys fell silent for a long moment and then switched to English.
“Very well, I have searched and do not see anything here.”
“Stamos said he saw two figures running this way.”
“Maybe they were deer.”
“I agree. The house was empty and now this place. They are hiding somewhere else.”
“This is the closest ranch,” the American voice said. “They can’t have gotten that far. Close everything back up and wipe anything you might have touched for fingerprints. One of you stays on the property. The other goes back. We’ve got some time. We’ll wait them out. Harvis will take care of the herd in the meantime.”
At that last comment, Ashley turned panicked eyes onto Darius. He shook his head and put a finger to his lips.
Don’t say a word.
He didn’t know how badly his finger was trembling until she grabbed his hand and held it between her two hands.
His heart fluttered at her touch, spiking, and then settling. He closed his eyes, thinking maybe the darkness would let him imagine he wasn’t back in that tight space again during his deployment, his leg stuck between two boulders and enemy soldiers closing in. He’d gotten out in time with the help of a fellow soldier, but it had been close and the panic of what could have happened still haunted him in moments like this. It made him feel weak and cowardly.
He’d been in two fire fights, but had been lucky enough to never have been shot. That luck made him feel like even more of a coward some nights, like he had only played at being a soldier.
He left the Army first chance he got and spent a lot of time camping and freelancing as a ranch hand. Spending time alone in the wilderness, he’d wrestle with the thought that he just wasn’t good enough.
He was not the proud soldier everyone back home liked to think he was.
“I think they’re gone,” Ashley whispered.
Her voice, even though it was barely discernible, startled him. He had lost some time, but opened his eyes and heard nothing. The distillery was dark and silent.
The men had left the building. They were alone in this big copper boiler. He rubbed a shaky hand across his face. She held his other hand and he responded to that warmth, and that touch, almost against his will. His body craved the comfort he knew she could offer him even as he tried to beat back the fear tickling at his mind.
He reached for her, like she had reached for him earlier that night.
He crushed her lips to his, felt her breasts press up against his chest, and lost himself in the soft flesh of her mouth, the soft curve of her breasts underneath her clothes, as he moved his hands down her sides and rested them on her hips.
He pulled back once even though panic threatened to choke out his breath. In his frenzy to beat back the fear that flapped like bat wings against his brain he feared he was forcing himself upon her, but she pressed herself to him, not letting him get away. His erection sprung rock hard.
He drove his tongue into her mouth and explored her like his sanity depended on it.
Chapter 10
Ashley felt his need and responded it.
She wasn’t the kind of girl to go for one night stands or sex on the first date. They hadn’t even had a date. But none of that mattered right then. She’d had a gun pointed at her head. Almost dying like that had made her forget any sense of propriety.
Being safe for the moment, for who knew how long, with Darius so close, was intoxicating.
She’d felt the panic roll over Darius and keep him taut as a wire. Waves of panic rolled off him and his hands had trembled out of control. Even in the darkness of the copper boiler with only the porthole for light, she had seen his need.
She could meet it, and decided she wanted to meet it.
This realization stunned her, but what stunned her even more was the way he made her feel. As his hands roved over her clothes, sexual energy coiled in her belly and made her wet. She threw caution aside and dove into this moment head first.
Every move he made, she responded with her own. They were alone in the dark, inside a copper boiler tank, dangerous enemies waiting outside. She’d had a gun pointed to her head by men who hadn’t even blinked twice at the thought of killing her.
That moment had flipped a switch in her brain. Janice had been right all along. What was she afraid of? What was she waiting for to start her life again?
She’d held herself away from people for years. Besides the animals, Janice was the only one inside her inner circle. It wasn’t enough anymore. She wanted Darius more than she could remember wanting a man for a very long time.
She wanted to feel him inside her while she was still alive to feel anything at all.
Darius lowered himself and suckled her breast nipple through her shirt. Pleasure sparked through her and she moaned. He reached up and covered her mouth with his rough hand.
“Quiet,” he said, voice rough and scratchy. “Quiet and quick.”
She maneuvered her mouth against his hand until she’d taken in a finger and began sucking on it. It didn’t matter what was happening outside. It was dark and quiet and they were safe for now, and now she was going to take advantage of something she had denied herself for a very long time. Pumping her m
outh up and down, she sucked on his finger. She felt this near death energy rise up in her like something wild. All that mattered was living inside this moment.
She took his finger deeper into her mouth.
He inserted a second finger and slipped his other hand into her jeans, fingering her underwear aside and then fingering her from the inside. She reached for the bulge in his jeans, hot, hard, and large against her hands as she rubbed him.
He had his fingers in her mouth, sucking and suckling, pumping and pulling. He did the same to her, thrusting three fingers into her pussy, pushing against her button of pleasure in a rhythm that shot bullets of pleasure from her head to her toes. He groaned, burying his face between her breasts to stifle the sound. All of her was slick and wet as she bucked under his handling, unable to contain the pleasure ripping through her in mounting waves.
When she couldn’t take it anymore, she unzipped his jeans and his manhood came tumbling out, stretching the cloth of his underwear to almost bursting. He released his fingers from her mouth and pussy and she felt the ache of that emptiness push her into a frenzied speed to return her to the spot where she felt filled up and open again.
He pulled down her jeans and then her underwear. He pushed up her shirt and her bra, but didn’t take them off, they bunched around her neck in a way that made her feel even crazier. Her breasts tumbled out, free for him to suckle. He dove onto one and then the other. Teasing, licking, gently tugging, pleasure coursing through her lower belly.
He kneeled, careful of the noise the copper boiler could make, and held her by her naked hips, palms splayed against her as he dived for her pussy. Using his tongue in rhythmic circular motions, his hands moved around to cup the flesh of her butt and he dove deeper, licking her button, diving into her opening, while flicking a nipple with one hand.
When he stuck his tongue inside her she felt the waves of pleasure pitch her over into climax. She shuddered, as the waves built higher and higher until she lost all sense of herself in the release.
Smuggled Wonder Page 4