Especially when a girl couldn’t even enjoy a few of her inalienable rights. Like wearing her own clothes. And chocolate.
“Doing okay down there?”
Ally glanced up, caught Greg’s lips twitching and narrowed her eyes. “Enjoying yourself?”
His grin about split his face. Torn between annoyance and unwittingly charmed, she settled on grumbling. “I take it I can sit in my seat now?”
“Yeah.”
“Probably could have five minutes ago.” She grimaced as she eased out of her cramped position and into the seat.
“Hey, I’m just trying to be cautious,” Greg said with the innocence of a six-year-old choir boy.
“Uh-huh.”
She straightened her legs and wriggled her toes, circulation returning with painful tingles, and indulged in a luxurious full-body stretch. A moan escaped as her muscles relaxed and tendons loosened. Settling back into the seat, she glanced at the road and shrieked.
“Watch the road!” She slapped her hands over her eyes then peeked through her fingers.
Greg barely avoided plowing into the side of a parked pickup.
“Real smooth.”
“At least I’m not flaunting myself and moaning.” He glared out the windshield.
Her eyebrows shot up. “I was stretching.”
“Stretching?” Disbelief coated his words thick as molasses in January. “Sticking out your breasts and moaning is stretching?”
“Sticking out my…Look, Surfer Dude, you’re the one who left me pretzeled on the floor for fifteen minutes. Don’t blame me if all you can think about is sex.”
Bickering over whether or not her stretching was sexual. Seriously, how ridiculous could two adults get?
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“What?”
“I said, I’m sorry.” He all but shouted.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Crossing her arms, she glared out the window. What was the deal with men, anyway? One minute they were all over you, the next yelling at you. Like she needed more antagonism in her life. No, thank you.
She glanced out the side window, just in time to see a car’s front fender up close and personal before it slammed into them. The screech of metal against metal, the squeal of tires and the smell of hot steel and exploded gunpowder from the airbags filled the air. The force of the impact sent her flying across the car into Greg—she’d forgotten her seat belt. Wilting against his solid warmth, she stared at the side of the car where she’d been sitting.
Twisted metal, torn fabric and a limp airbag dangled from the dashboard. Beyond the mangled door, two men sat in the front seat of an old behemoth car. The same car parked outside Lucas’ house five minutes ago. Their expressions weren’t pleasant.
Their doors swung open.
Greg swore, wrenched the steering wheel to the side and stomped hard on the accelerator. With a loud metallic shriek, their sedan separated from the bumper of the other car and pulled away. Shouts, slamming doors and the rev of an engine followed as they sped down the road.
“You okay?” he asked.
Something warm trickled down the side of her face. Her vision did a weird tunnel effect.
“Ally?” He sounded so far away.
His eyes narrowed and his brow crinkled with concern. Worry, even. She should say something to let him know she was alright. In a minute. A dull roar filled her ears and everything went black.
Chapter Ten
Ally opened her eyes to pale-gray ceiling panels, white walls and a television mounted high in the corner. The tiny room had a dark-gray curtain drawn over one wall. Very unattractive. She struggled into a sitting position. Her head swam. She groaned and bent forward to rest her forehead on her upraised knees, wincing when her hand hit a bandage.
The curtain squeaked as it slid open. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be up yet.”
Slowly this time, she lifted her head. Nurses and orderlies in scrubs bustled behind Greg. Her gaze dropped to the cup of strong-smelling coffee in his hand and her stomach rolled. He took a sip from the cup. What had he said? Oh…
“Why not?” Wow, her throat was really dry. Croaking-frog dry.
“Here.” Greg pushed a plastic cup of ice water into her hand. She gulped it.
The moisture soothed her throat. Her stomach? Not so much. Bile rose. She handed the cup back and concentrated on breathing. No way was she throwing up in front of Greg.
“Okay?”
She cautiously nodded. A few more minutes of deep breathing and her stomach finally relaxed.
She swallowed to be sure and glanced at Greg. “How ’bout a recap, since my memory of the last few hours is fuzzy at best?”
“We didn’t make a clean exit from Lucas’ house. I lost the assholes following us, but you got pretty banged-up. The doctor said you might have a blank in your memory, thanks to a concussion.” He grimaced. “You have some colorful bruises on your face and the cut on your forehead needed a few stitches. You’ll be pretty sore in the morning.”
Ally was sore now and she was positive there was nothing pretty about it. Spying a small mirror over the sink, she gingerly stood.
He frowned. “Sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
She waited a second for her land legs to kick in before crossing to the sink. Oh, lovely. The monstrous bandage stopped just short of covering her right eye and spanned her forehead. Her cheek was a beautiful shade of purple. The mascara smudged below her eyes wasn’t helping anything. Her hair was a disaster and her nose shiny. If the aches and tightness were any indication, she had more colorful spots under her clothes. Dampening a paper towel, hyper-aware of Greg behind her, she did her best to clean up.
“I’m sorry, Ally.”
She met his gaze in the mirror. “For what? It’s not your fault those lunatics wanted to play bumper cars with thirty-thousand pound cars.”
“I should have been paying more attention.”
He really did look like he felt bad, poor guy. Must be tough playing Super Man. “I don’t blame you. None of this is your fault.”
“It’s not exactly your fault, either, Sugar Lips.” His smile didn’t quite manage to reach his eyes.
She shrugged and instantly regretted it. Tightening her lips against a gasp of pain, she sighed. “So it’s not your fault and it’s not my fault. Since we’re in this situation together, let’s not assign blame or assume guilt for the crap happening. ’Kay?”
“Sure.”
Yeah. He didn’t buy it. Must be the He-Man macho-guy thing. She tried to relax her muscles. They’d suffered enough abuse already. She appreciated that he wanted to protect her and took the responsibility seriously. He didn’t need to beat himself up when the bad guys got in a lick or two of their own.
Carefully lowering her aching body onto the narrow bed, Ally bit her lip and leaned back with a sigh. She hurt everywhere.
“The doctor left these pills for you. They’ll help with the pain and swelling.”
She swallowed the little pills, washing them down with a minimal amount of ice water.
When they finally walked out of the hospital, warm sunshine greeted them. She squinted and swayed.
“Why did you have to be stubborn and refuse the wheelchair?” Irritation and amusement colored Greg’s voice. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking her against his side as they navigated the parking lot.
“We aren’t driving Lucas’ poor car, are we?”
“I rented a car and had it delivered.”
“Busy boy.”
Very relaxed and uber-mellow, she smiled up at him and leaned closer. Greg had a strange expression on his too-handsome face, but she didn’t care.
A giant yawn caught her by surprise. She slapped a hand over her mouth in a belated attempt at politeness, giggling. Tripping over her feet, she stumbled against him and giggled some more. She wrapped both arms around his hard abdomen.
He smelled good.
“The
pain medication has obviously taken effect.”
The thumping of his heart under her ear and the heat of his body relaxed her further.
“Probably not a good thing to take on an empty stomach.”
Yawning, she turned her face into his shirt. He smelled really good. “Mmm. You smell yummy. Like hot, sexy man. I wanna lick you all over.”
He stopped walking and his chest expanded with a deep breath. She pressed against him from thigh to shoulder, like two halves of bread making a sandwich. All they lacked was some salami. Oh, wait. He had the salami. She giggled into his pec.
His muscles shifted and he pried her off his lovely chest. Which wasn’t very nice of him. Ignoring her mumbled protest, he pushed her into a seat. Ally yawned and closed her eyes. She couldn’t seem to find the energy or interest to open them.
That lovely, muscular arm went around her again. She draped her arms around his neck and tugged him closer. His face landed in the crook of her neck. She didn’t mind. Being in an accommodating sort of mood, she even tilted her head. He nibbled her sensitive skin and she sighed. Lovely.
A click and he pulled away, dropping a too-light kiss on her lips. She attempted to tighten her arms to hold him in place but failed miserably. So she pried open her heavy lids and attempted a glare as he backed out of the car. Putting a leg out to follow, she discovered he’d buckled her in like a recalcitrant child and went into full-pout mode.
He chuckled and closed the door.
“You look adorable when you pout.” He climbed into the driver’s seat. “Especially,” he leaned over the console, “the way your lower lip sticks out so invitingly,” and licked along said lip before capturing her mouth with his.
Ally went from mildly irritated to hot and itchy in 3.2 seconds. His hand slid into her hair, angling her head. The stroke of his tongue woke her nerve endings to screaming attention like an F-15 doing a fly-by. She moaned into his mouth, clutching him tight so he couldn’t escape.
Too soon, he did exactly that and sank back into his seat.
Note to self—death grip needs work. “You keep doing that. It’s pissing me off.”
Her eyes widened. She didn’t talk like that. It kinda rocked.
He shot her an amused glance. “Doing what?”
“Getting me all turned-on then leaving me hanging. Not very gentlemanly to play like that, ya know.” Satisfied when his amused look fled, she crossed her arms. His hands flexed on the steering wheel, the play of muscles down his tanned arms momentarily distracting her.
“I haven’t been playing with you. I didn’t want to take advantage.”
She sniffed. “Yeah, I know. I’m not your type. Guys like you want perfect, slim, beach-bunny types. Not boring, chubby, unattractive girls.” Limbs and eyelids heavy, tongue way too loose, Ally settled deeper into the seat.
“That’s not…” He broke off and shook his head. “We need to get some food in you to counteract the medicine.”
“I feel fine.” She yawned, melting deeper into the soft seat like ice cream on a hot summer day.
“Uh-huh.” He sighed. “You’re a beautiful, sexy woman, Ally.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to lie. My mother warned me what would happen if I stayed fat. I accepted a long time ago I’d haft’a settle for a steady, reliable, average kinda guy if I wanted to get married and have a family.” Nestled in her seat, eyes closed, warmth suffused her body, too safe and languid to screen her words. “I just thought for once, maybe I could have the hot guy who seemed too incredible for words. Just one time, I could be that girl.” Sleep tugged hard, making it difficult to talk. “Is’okay,” she mumbled. “Don’ worry ’bout it.”
Someone jiggled her shoulder. She pushed the hand off, but it returned and shook harder. Cracking open her eyes, Ally glared at the obnoxious man disturbing her. “What?”
“You need to eat.”
“Not hungry.” Curling into a tight ball, she closed her eyes.
“Ally, you have to eat.” He sounded very firm.
Sighing, she opened her eyes again. “Why?”
“Because.” Greg’s voice slowed, adult explaining a basic principle to a five-year-old. “You took heavy painkillers on an empty stomach. You need to dilute all those pills in your system.”
Grudgingly conceding his point, she sat up and accepted the cheeseburger. And the cup of soda. Ice-cold Diet Coke went a long way toward clearing the rest of the cobwebs. Halfway through the burger, the memory of their conversation before she’d fallen asleep slapped her fully awake . Clear and sharp, painful in recollection.
Cheeks warming, she stared out the window. Anywhere but at him. “Uhm, about what I said earlier? You can just forget…well, all of it.”
“Oh, yeah?” he drawled.
Her face burned hotter and she shook her hair forward to cover it. “Please? Prescription painkillers and I don’t coexist real well. They make me…well, loopy.”
“So I’m not a hot stud? And you don’t want to find out how good we’d be together in bed?”
Melting into a puddle of embarrassed goo held definite appeal. Anything to escape. Heck, she’d even welcome the interruption of some homicidal criminal about now. Well, no. That was going too far.
Greg seemed oblivious to her suffering. “Because I sure as hell would.”
Oh, wonderful. A whole new pinnacle of previously undiscovered mortification breached. “Greg, I have no intention of being some sympathy case for you. A mercy…” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t force the word out.
“Fuck?”
She winced and nodded.
“You really have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”
Gorgeous? Forgetting her scorching cheeks, she looked up.
Greg captured her gaze, his deep voice flowing around her like molten lava. “You are a sensuous, beautiful, incredible woman, Ally. I don’t know what happened to screw up your self-perception, but it’s not easy keeping my hands off you. Your sweet curves scream hot and sweaty sex. I’ve thought so since the first time I saw you.”
She could barely breathe. Her hearing must have gone on the fritz. Or the painkillers had scrambled her brains. Men like him didn’t say things like that to her. Yet, staring into his eyes, she couldn’t doubt his sincerity.
The harsh ring of a cell phone shattered the moment.
“Marsing.” A thundercloud slowly spread across his face. “Yeah. We’ll be there.”
He tapped the phone off, focused his gaze out the windshield, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and his eyes narrowed. The fraught silence stretched her nerves. She had a right to know what was going on. Odds were it involved her.
“What?”
His gaze flicked to her and away again. A shutter had dropped. She couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t want to tell her. Her muscles tensed, her belly tightened, and her appetite fled.
“That was Lucas.” Greg’s lips pressed into a tight, hard line. “Some thugs showed up at his house this morning, said they had Celia and if he wanted to see her alive again, he had to go with them. Now they’ve got both of them.”
His fist tightened around the steering wheel.
“They want to trade,” he said in a low voice. “You for Celia and Lucas.”
“Wow.” Lightheaded and numb, she attempted a smile. “A two-fer.”
“This isn’t a joke, Ally.”
“I know that.” She sighed. “I also know you don’t have a choice.”
His jaw hardened. “There’s always a choice. No way in hell am I handing you over.”
“I don’t see any other option.”
“You don’t know these people. Victor, the slimeball in charge, is involved in drugs, prostitution, you name it, he’s probably got a finger in the pie. The things he does to his girls, allows his Johns to do…you don’t want to know.”
And this Victor guy wanted her? “Why is he not locked up? Why does he want me?”
“We’ve never been able to catch him with his
pants down. As to why he wants you…we know he isn’t behind all this—he doesn’t have the kind of money being offered. I’d say it’s directly related to the healthy paycheck for your death.”
Well, alrighty then. She could almost feel the blood draining from her head. And she thought she was lightheaded before.
Spitting expletives, he slammed his palm against the steering wheel.
Ally flinched.
“I’ll come up with something, some way to get Celia and Lucas from them without giving you up. ’Cause, babe, that’ll happen over my dead body.”
Ally’s stomach knotted, his expression and voice far too serious with the whole dead- body thing.
With vicious motions, he shoved the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. They drove in silence for a long time. Different scenarios, each more unpleasant and painful than the last, stretched Ally’s nerves to the breaking point. Someone, somewhere, found her continued existence infuriating. Her boring, no-social-life, introverted, wouldn’t-harm-a-fly existence. It boggled the mind.
Greg pulled into a deserted park. He shut off the ignition, tension filling the quiet car. Ally twisted her hands in her lap. She didn’t know what to say. Because of her, his sister and friend were in danger. The enormity of the situation rushed over her like a tsunami, blurring her vision and choking her. She leapt out of the car.
Greg shouted after her, but she didn’t pause. Space. She just needed some space. A few minutes to beat back the panic. Darting into the shade of a familiar hiking path, she ran. She knew this park, had played here as a child with her cousins. The path wound down to a little lake, a spot she’d hidden from over-opinionated relatives.
Deftly avoiding tree roots and divots, she flew down the path. The lake opened in front of her and she slowed, following the trail around the side at a gentle jog. All the exercise of the last few days had left her energetic and feeling better, at least physically, than she had in a long while.
She glanced back. Unbelievable. She’d actually lost Greg. Tendrils of guilt tried to grow roots, but she ignored them. A few moments of quiet, some time for introspection was all she needed before heading back and graciously accepting whatever plan Greg offered.
Sweet Deception Page 11