Page 14 of Outbreak (Revolution X #1)

CHAPTER 13

Rue

W armth radiates through me, cocooned around my body like a furnace. And I hate it. Sweat slicks my skin, making my tank top stick to me. Where the fuck did I fall asleep? A fucking oven?

Stretching out like a cat, I arch my back and try to raise my arms, but I’m pinned beneath something—no, someone. Something long and hard—and entirely too big—presses into my ass.

It doesn’t take but a second to remember where I am and who I’m with before I stiffen my back and try to pull as far away as his heavy body will allow.

How the fuck do I get out of this?

Maybe I can scoot down and get out of the truck before he wakes up? It’s worth a shot. Though I have no idea where I am or how I’m going to get back to school, that sounds like a problem for later me. If it works.

Holding my breath, I slowly inch down the air bed, trying not to disturb the sleeping giant behind me. If I didn’t want to get the fuck out of here so badly, I would take this opportunity to unmask him and see who he really is. I’ll just have to live with never knowing. He can forever live as the masked stranger in my memories. I don’t need to know.

Liar, liar.

I make it about a foot down the bed when I feel something pulling at my wrist every time I move. What the fuck is this? I lift my arm; his arm moves, and something hard digs into my skin.

“Going somewhere, Rue?” His sleepy, hoarse voice sends goosebumps prickling across my overheated skin. Tossing the blanket off of us, he lifts his arm, making mine dangle too. “Where are we going?”

This motherfucker handcuffed us together.

He sits up, his mask still firmly in place. The sunlight streaming in through the dark tinted glass is enough to see his eyes—a sea green shade that pierces right through my defenses. My breath catches as my heart stalls and I feel all of the blood drain from my face.

It’s not him. It can’t be.

The voice is wrong. The size. His voice wasn’t nearly as deep or gritty, and he was tall but not built like this stranger. My mind is playing tricks on me. Reminding me of the worst I’ve ever felt in my life. He is probably married by now—to a nice, normal girl with one and a half kids and a white picket fence.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His mocking tone pulls me out of my head and back into the reality of this situation. Jerking my arm back as hard as I can, I fix my face and fix him with my best death glare.

“Who are you?” My eyes narrow as he stares back at me, propped up on one elbow.

“I already told you that,” he says, his eyes crinkling around the corners as he smirks beneath the mask. “No more questions.”

A yelp escapes me as he pulls me back beside him, my back into his front. Our handcuffs clink together as he presses his hips into my ass and slides his hand slowly up my stomach, over the swell of my chest that’s rising and falling at a very concerning pace. Bringing it to rest at the base of my throat, he inhales deeply into my hair.

Why does this asshole keep sniffing me?

“I can’t help it. You drive me fucking crazy,” he growls behind me, sending a shiver through me, all the way to my toes.

Fuck! I must have said that aloud.

I can’t trust myself when he invades my space like this, so rather than even try to bite back at him, I keep my mouth shut.

I feel like a kitten being cuddled by a grizzly bear—one wrong move and he could snap my little neck with the flick of his enormous hand.

I can feel how hard he is; his stupidly impressive bulge feels like a brick digging into my ass. My intrusive thoughts take over, and I push back into him. The feral groan he lets out startles me, and he grinds even harder into me as he tightens his hand around my throat.

“Don’t be a tease. If you want something, beg for it .”

He punctuates the last words by thrusting his hips into me. And as much as my body is screaming to push him until he just takes it, I will never beg for it. “In your dreams, assface.”

I pull myself as far away from him as his hold will allow, pushing myself into his hand that doesn’t release on my throat.

“Have it your way, baby girl.” He finally pulls away, flopping back down on the airbed on his back.

And because we’re still cuffed together, I’m forced onto my back as well. We both stare up at the roof of the truck. I’m trying like hell not to rub my thighs together to soothe the ache the asshole created there. I have no idea what’s going through his mind, but I have no doubt; I’m not going to like it when I find out. So far this stranger has done nothing to truly harm me, and my spidey senses that pick up on everyone’s energy are telling me he won’t. But I don’t trust myself. Something is off—or maybe I’m off. I mean, he kidnapped me for fucks sake—drove a needle into my neck, and honest-to-God kidnapped me!

I’ve got to get myself sorted out. Which means I’ve got to figure out how to get the fuck away from this man. I need my friends. I need to know they are okay. They are probably sick with worry. They don’t know the extent of my past, but they’ve known me long enough to know I wouldn't just disappear off the face of the earth. Surely they will call the police and they’ll?—

Oh fuck. That’s the last thing I need. What if they’ve already been looking for me—what if they know what I did?

“I need my phone. Where is it?” I sit straight up in a panic, pulling his cuffed arm with me as I try to dig into my pocket where I know I had it last.

“How would I know?”

“I’m not fucking around asshole. If my friends find out I’m missing, they will call the police. They can’t call the police. ” My pockets are empty. Shit . When I start patting him down, trying to dig in his pockets, he captures my wrists in his and pulls them to his chest.

“Why can’t they call the police, Rue?”

“I– they– They just can’t. Trust me. Give me my phone. Let me text them that I’m okay and I’ll be back soon.” I can’t tell him what I did either. I don’t know him. I definitely don’t trust him. He might get his rocks off by turning me in himself. Though then he might have to explain that he kidnapped me, and I don't think he would be okay with that.

“What did you do?” His eyes narrow as he tries to figure out just who he kidnapped.

“No-nothing.” I stutter defensively.

“You’ve always been a shit little liar.” I’m so sick of his shit. He doesn’t fucking know me.

“You don’t know me, asshole,” I spit with as much venom I can muster. “If you did, you’d know exactly why my friends can’t call the police. If you did your fucking homework, you’d know… you kidnapped a murderer.”