Dauntless (Sons of Templar MC #5)(33)

“What was that?” I managed to choke out, blinking at him rapidly.

He didn’t answer, merely set my panties on fire with his gaze and hitched me over his shoulder. Yes, people did that in real life, if that’s what this was.

It took me the time it took him to leave the ladies’ room and walk down the hall to realize what was going on and start struggling. I wriggled and kicked, not caring that I was wearing a dress and such actions were not ladylike. I was not a lady, so who cared.

“Lucky!” I screeched.

He didn’t answer me, just kept walking into the common room full with people. Fucking great.

“Put me down,” I ordered, deciding to ignore the hoots and hollers as people watched his journey across the room.

He ignored me again, his arms like vises, hindering my struggle like I was a child. Despite the hoots, not many people seemed perturbed that Lucky was carting a struggling woman through the crowded room. In fact, from what I could see from my current position, everyone continued whatever they were doing without a second glance.

“Hello?” I shouted to no one in particular. “I’m being kidnapped! I thought the whole point of being an alpha biker was to help damsels in distress.” I waved my hands. “Damsel, in distress.”

I got a smirk from Brock, who had his arm around Amy, who winked at me. Fucking winked.

Rosie shook her head, grinning. I amended all my earlier thoughts about her. She wasn’t nice; she was a she-devil.

We made it into the parking lot without anyone coming to my aid.

“Fucking bikers,” I muttered under my breath. I’d stopped struggling, mostly because I’d discovered it was useless but even more disturbing, I’d lost the ability. My body was weak, but I hadn’t realized how much. I was breathless, as well as slightly nauseous from the laughable struggle.

“Put me down, Lucky. This isn’t funny,” I declared as we approached the truck we’d arrived in. “Or legal,” I added. Though I guessed an outlaw biker didn’t exactly care about federal law.

Again, Lucky was quiet. His silence was beginning to freak me out.

My stomach whirled as he somehow managed to open the door to the truck and deposit me in the seat in one smooth move. Almost like he’d done it before.

Because I was using all of my effort not to throw up, I missed my chance of escape. Which consisted of kicking him in his crown jewels and running to God knew where. When I realized that option was available, it disappeared. It disappeared with the cold steel circling my wrist and a metallic click.

I gaped up at my hand, which was now attached to the handle on the ceiling. “Holy shit,” I exclaimed. I glared at him. “You’re f*cking handcuffing me?” I shouted. “Who the heck has handcuffs in their pockets?”

Lucky regarded me, his eyes still hard as he grinned seductively. “Someone who knows how to use them in the most pleasurable ways.”

The door slammed in my face and he rounded the car. I rattled the cuffs, looking for a way to pull them free. I was still attached to the roof by the time he climbed in the cab and began reversing out of the lot.

“Let me out of these. Right now,” I ordered, my voice dripping with venom. It disguised the panic. Not only was I restrained in a small space while battling with withdrawals, but I was stuck with him. The one person I needed to be far, far away from. Well actually, there were two people I needed to be far away from but the second was myself, and unfortunately, you couldn’t escape yourself. I’d tried. Came out with a drug addiction and, more recently, handcuffed in a truck with a hot biker.

“Can’t do that, Becky,” Lucky replied, eyes on the road. His body was relaxed, voice even, as if this were a totally normal thing to do.

I glared at his profile. “Um, I think you’ve got shit upside down. What you can’t do is throw someone over your shoulder and handcuff them in a motor vehicle. I know you live in some alternate biker world, but I’m thinking this particular act is a universal no-no.”

Lucky gave me a sideways glance before turning his attention back to the road. “The world I’m livin’ in has a beautiful woman who’s under my skin, drowning, struggling, and too f*cking tough to ask for help. I’m not gonna let you drown, firefly. Letting your light go out? That’s a universal no-no.” He paused. “I knew you wouldn’t come willingly, so I’m doing what’s necessary.”

I took a long deep breath. A clean one. I needed a f*cking smoke. And a lock pick kit. “I’ll come willingly, just let me out of these cuffs,” I said, my voice even.

A grin tickled the corner of his mouth. “The moment I do that, I’ll see that sexy ass running away from me. I can catch you, no doubt about that, and I’ll have fun doing it, but we’ll save that for later.” Another pause and the grin left his face. “For when you’re better.”

I pursed my lips together, a thin film of shame washing over me. The silence in the cab was deafening, the truth saturating the air. I scratched my arms, the itch coming back full force.

I watched the town pass us by and houses disappear, replaced by the ocean on one side and empty fields on the other.

“This is kidnapping,” I observed.

“You’re not a kid, so it’s technically adult-napping,” Lucky replied.

I scowled at him. “You missed your calling. You should have been a f*cking comedian instead of a biker.”