3
Rayne held her tongue for an hour. Then two. She could be just as close-mouthed as he was. Besides, it was better she not distract him from driving. She'd snuck a glance at the speedometer. They were doing well over a hundred. The scenery went by so fast after they'd left town that she was clueless as to where they were going.
She couldn't take it anymore. Not only had this huge...moron...kidnapped her. She was getting carsick. And he kept...touching her. Bumping her. If she wasn't so scared, she'd rip him a new asshole.
"So where are you taking me?" No answer. She hadn't really expected one. "What's your name?" Still nothing. His profile in the dim glow of the dash lights looked as if it were made of stone. "If I puke on you, will you say something?" She seriously wanted to throw up. She hated riding in vehicles on long trips. Especially with the windows up. She wanted...no...needed a cigarette. And something to drink. Her throat was dry.
The guy's only response was a put-upon sigh. Rayne held back a groan as he pushed the pedal down farther. They weren't on the highway, which was at least flat. This was one of those back country roads, full of curves and hills, dips and turns. Her stomach twisted as they went over a small rise.
Ok. She couldn't handle this. She leaned over toward the passenger door, reaching for the button that would lower the window. His hand left the wheel, wrapping around her wrist instead in an iron grip. She froze. Good grief, did he think she was stupid enough to try to jump out as they were rocketing down some bumpkin back road?
Rayne shot him a stony look. "I am not joking about puking. If I don't get some air soon..."
The guy muttered a curse and let her go. She hurriedly cracked the window open, breathing in a great gulp of fresh air. Ahh...better. Not great, but not as bad as it had been. She thought about sliding over to the far side of the seat so she could let the air blow in directly on her. The guy would probably throw a fit...he'd...
He was reaching down, unbuckling her seat belt. Rayne looked at him, then moved over, getting as far away from him as she could. She buckled herself in with the shoulder restraint, feeling marginally less sick.
The night blurred past. If she really wanted to make herself sick, all she had to do was stare out the window at the trees that flew past. Ugh. That was a stupid idea.
"Where are we going?" She tried again. He'd eventually have to tell her right? He apparently didn't think so. Aggravated, she pushed her hair back from her face. "How about at least putting the radio on? Something...anything. Shit."
"No."
Wow. He spoke. She was amazed. Rayne eyed him. He sounded downright irritated. Good. She was still scared, but damn it, she wanted to know why she was scared.
"Just one song."
"No."
"Oh...fuck." She reached for the power button. He grabbed her hand, lowering it to the seat between them.
"No."
"Why the fuck not?"
He didn't answer. He did not let go of her hand either.
"Look, if you're going to drive like a fucking maniac, I'd appreciate it if you held the wheel while you did it," Rayne said as he took a sharp curve. He didn't seem to mind it. Did not seem to be having any problems handling the big truck on this tiny little middle of nowhere road.
He let go of her hand, returning it to the steering wheel. She sighed in relief, then winced as they went over another one of those dips.
"I am in a truck with a fucking psycho asshole and he won't even humor me and play the fucking radio. Thanks, fate, you stupid whore." Rayne muttered it under her breath, but she had no doubt that he'd heard her.
But there was still no response. Might as well be carved of marble. "Asshole," she muttered it again, then leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. That was good. She didn't have to see the road unrolling in front of them, or the speedometer...which her eyes kept drifting to. She was tired. Falling asleep would be a bad thing. Maybe just a doze. The motion of the truck was soothing, at least. Her emotional rollercoaster had left her feeling drained. Ok. Maybe just a little nap. He couldn't very well decapitate her if he was driving now could he?
An unknown amount of time later, she jerked awake, gasping. Weird ass dream. First she'd been kidnapped by some biker wannabe, then she'd fallen asleep in the dream and had dreamed about being in a dark place. On a bed. Tied to a bed. Naked. She shuddered. Scary.
Then Rayne realized where she was. Still in the truck. Which had come to a stop. The slamming of the driver side door had been what had pulled her out of the dream. The biker guy was walking around the front, coming toward her door.
Rayne was gripped with a moment of panic. Shit. Her eyes took in the sky, lighting in the east, it was almost dawn. That meant he'd driven like a bat out of hell for almost six hours. Maybe more.
Her thoughts were cut off as her door opened. He was leaning in, unbuckling her seat belt, then grabbing her arm and hauling her out of the cab. She stumbled, caught her balance, then glanced around. They were...somewhere. A house. Old, disused, huge. A farmhouse. In the middle of what had once been a big yard with a winding gravel driveway. The yard had gone to weeds. The drive was heading the same direction.
Rayne saw a few lights blazing in the first floor windows of the house. Obviously they were expected. She felt a chill go down her spine as the front door opened. The biker was pulling her along, heading toward the rickety porch that wrapped around the house.
She stumbled again. Her leg was numb from sitting for so long, it didn't want to support her. Biker guy turned, made a move to pick her up, but Rayne backed away quickly, forcing her leg to work. He quirked an eyebrow, then turned and pulled her again.
She got a good look at the door-opener. Young. Good looking. Had dark hair, dark eyes. He looked...soft. Compared to the biker guy, that was a good way of describing him. He looked so damn...nice. He was smiling a little. His eyes were actually twinkling.
Oh, no. What, was this asshole biker guy going to hand her over to junior for...for...whatever they had in mind? Or worse...both of them...she shuddered.
The guy who'd snatched her stopped, tugging her to stand between the two men.
"This her?" The younger one asked. He even sounded friendly. Rayne didn't know which guy scared her more at this point.
"Yes. The mark..." He did not need to finish.
The young guy moved to stand behind Rayne, then did the same thing biker man had done earlier in the night, tugging her shirt up and her jeans down a little. What the fuck did they see? She didn't even have a birthmark as far as she knew. She'd never gotten a tattoo. Her back was smooth, unblemished.
"I'll be damned," clean cut guy sounded awed. He dropped her shirt and returned to his former position. "Well...what do you want to do now?"
"I want you to put her under." Rayne snapped her eyes toward biker guy. He wasn't looking at her.
"You sure? This close...the dreams..."
"She's already started having them. She won't dream when she's under. Only when she's sleeping." Biker cocked his head as if listening. "The others will be looking for her. I don't want them to find her here. At least...not yet."
"Right." Young guy eyed Rayne, smiling a little. Uh oh. That was a used car salesman look if she'd ever seen one. "Ok. It's gonna be lights out for a while. Sorry 'bout this..." He reached out. Rayne flinched back, expecting a blow. Instead, his fingertips brushed her temple. Biker guy put his hands on her shoulders, holding her still. She opened her mouth to protest, but it died before it could fully form in her mind. Everything went dark. She did not feel herself falling, did not feel biker guy lifting her up into his arms. Rayne found the darkness welcoming, warm. Her mind shut down, her thoughts drifting away until she was suspended in the deepest sleep she had ever known.