Page 73 of The Vigilante's Lover

Obviously Jax’s ex-lover isn’t going to underestimate me this time.

I wake up from what I assume was some drug, unable to move. The city flies by. We’re still in the blue Acura, and Jovana is driving.

She has me tied with six different ropes and at least ten knots. I recognize all the ones that I can see, but I have no hope of escaping from them. My fingers are literally tied down, then my wrists, then the ropes crisscross all over the place, lashing me to the seat.

“You’re awake,” she says, her “w” more like a “v.” The accent is strong.

It makes her seem more exotic and sexy. Her black hair is shiny and sleek, tied up in a loose French twist. Her cheekbones are straight from a magazine, and the black dress she’s wearing looks like it just strutted down a runway.

Jealousy spikes through me. So this is the woman who was Jax’s undoing.

Jovana drives the Acura like a demon from hell, cornering the curves so hard that my head, the only free part of my body, snaps from side to side.

“Stupid civilian vehicle,” she says, then lapses into a stream of what I assume is Russian.

“You don’t have a fancy Vigilante car?” I ask, then lean my head away at her withering glare.

“Shut up,” she says. “It’s bad enough I have to endure your presence. I don’t want to hear your yapping mouth.”

All jealousy evaporates. Jax chose a real peach. Maybe she’s mad that I’m not quaking in my ankle boots.

I look down at my trussed-up body. I swear I’m tied up more often than I’m loose these days. What a crazy life.

I don’t care a whit that she just told me to shut up. If I offend or annoy her, all the better. “Where are we going?” I ask. I shake my head, trying to clear the fuzziness, probably left over from whatever she gave me to make it easier to tie me up. I guess I should be glad it wasn’t a snuff dart.

She ignores me, punching her finger on the screen. When she finds nothing but the original owner’s data, she taps her phone against it like Colt did. Then she hits a name I’m very familiar with.

Klaus.

I can’t picture him clearly, having only encountered him in the dark, his cigarette a small glow of light. But Jax did show me his picture as we prepared to encounter them after the MMA fight. The screen gives nothing away, though, as it links through. Only his name is visible.

The number rings and rings, but does not answer or go to voice mail. Jovana’s eyes narrow and she mutters more Russian.

“Not answering your calls? Men are crappy like that,” I say.

“Shut up or I’ll cut your face,” she snaps.

Whoa-kay. I press my lips together. I’ll just have to gather information by observing.

I look out the windows. We’re out of the piney woods.

The sun is still in the east and rising.

So I wasn’t out long and we’re driving northeast. I almost ask if we’re headed to Washington to meet Sutherland, but then I remember she wants to cut my face.

We can’t make it in time for the evening meeting by car.

It must be ten hours at normal speeds. Maybe we’re heading for an airport.

Of course, she can’t really risk that with a captive.

Jax might have been able to sneak a tied-up girl into the back of a hotel, but they won’t ignore me trying to board a plane.

Jovana stabs at the screen again. This time it’s a name I don’t know. Kovitch.

“What is the nature of this call?” A dark-haired man scowls from the screen, then relaxes. “Jovana? Why are you calling unencrypted on this channel?”

“I’ve run into a snag,” she says. She glances over at me and starts speaking in Russian. Despite not knowing a word of it, I pick out a few names. Sutherland. De Luca. Klaus. And some cities. Knoxville. Washington.

So we’re still going that way. I’ve told Jax about Jovana’s meeting, so if he’s able to get out of whatever jam he’s in, maybe we’ll meet up.

My heart soars at the thought that we can continue to fight this thing, maybe win it.

Clear his name. Get this woman and that Klaus guy—wherever he is now—off our backs.

I try to think about what I’ll do if I’m faced with having to kill someone. Can I do it?

Jovana disconnects the call and turns to glare at me. “I can’t wait to cut that smirk right off your beastly face,” she says.

Yeah, I could kill her.

“Sutherland blowing you off too?” I ask, then wonder why I’m antagonizing her, as her fist connects with my chin. The blow hurts more than it should, and I realize I must be bruised. She hit me some other time. Maybe when I was drugged.

I’m dying to look at my face, but I’m tied up. And afraid of what I look like. I close my eyes and try to feel any injuries. My jaw is aching and there is something strange about my cheek when I smile. Like there’s dried blood.

So I shut up. No use getting any more scars than I may already have. I assess the rest of my body, but I can’t get any sense of other injuries with the ropes biting into me in so many places.

She tries calling Klaus again and I hold back a nasty remark. So her partner in crime has cut her off. Jax didn’t kill him, I know that. Maybe he’s just gone off grid. He did it to Jax before. That’s what started this whole thing, at least my part of it.

Jax. I calm myself by picturing his rugged face, that thick dark hair, his gray stormy eyes. I’ve known I was in love with him for a while now, but Jax isn’t the sort of guy you hand your heart over to. It’s likely to get shot right out of your hands.

But I can nurse that feeling anyway. It’s new to me, tender and exhilarating at the same time. He can’t be in too much duress if he was able to tie that thief knot. But they were quiet. I was in the very next room and didn’t hear a thing when whoever took him arrived.

The car dings that it is low on fuel. Jovana curses.

I’m sure she’d rather have a Vigilante car, and I wonder why she can’t get one.

But if Klaus is blowing her off, she might be in trouble with the Vigilantes.

Maybe that’s why she came for me. Her last conversation with Sutherland didn’t go well either, the one I overheard in the parking lot. She accused him of avoiding her.

Something is definitely up. Maybe that’s why she needs me. Some sort of leverage. A hostage. I don’t know. The only person who might care about me is Jax.

I assume he does.

Of course he does.

He brought me along. He teased me with that gun to get me past that fear. My blood rushes just thinking about it. I believe with all my heart that he intends to keep me with him.

I have to hold on to that right now.

We pass a gas station, and I glance over at the fuel gauge.

It says we can only go thirty more miles.

The road is well traveled, so there will be more stations, but I wonder how she’s going to hide a bound woman from anyone who might pull up to a pump next to her.

In broad daylight, that’s going to get some attention.

Unlike Vigilante cars, which have special windows to hide the interior, anyone can see right in.

As the number continues to drop with Jovana’s lead-foot driving, I start to form a plan.