Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(13)

Zeek looks at me, and I try to convey everything I’m thinking by the look on my face. “Please don’t take their car.” Zeek nods, and looks out the window.

“I’m not taking your car, old man.” Zeek pulls out the cuffs from his back pocket and strides toward me. My heart sinks, even though I’m agreeing not to be a pain, he’s still putting them on me. Surprising me, he grabs the sheet from the bed and tears two pieces of material from it. Taking my wrist, he wraps the torn sheet around the sensitive skin to protect it from the metal rubbing it raw. The gesture is simple, yet speaks volumes about his respect for my well-being. His eyes never leave mine, as the metal clinks into place.

Grabbing onto the chain linking the cuffs, he pulls me behind him.

Walking out the door, the morning sun is barely rising.

“Good luck!” Mildred hollers as Zeek shuts the door. He looks around the parking lot, the only other vehicle a rusted old Volkswagen van. Its blue paint chipped revealing an ugly orange. The windows holding neon green curtains.

“Looks like we’re taking the stoner’s ride.” He yanks on my cuffs, and marches toward the ugly van.

Opening my door for me, like a gentleman, the smell of pot and body odor is overwhelming.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“It’s either this, or the old couple’s car.” Glancing at him, I can’t help but furrow my brows with anger.

“Don’t you think you’ve terrorized that couple enough?”

A smirk slowly spreads across his face, and his hand rests on the van next to my head.

“Baby, I’ve only just begun. That shit back there, that was mere child’s play compared to what I’m capable of.” He narrows his brows together. “Now get in the f*cking van.”

I don’t know if I’m turned on, or horrified. Biting my tongue, I turn and get in.

Glancing around the van, it’s lined with orange shaggy carpet, and has food everywhere.

Zeek shoves empty chip bags from the driver’s seat, and climbs in.

“Fucking moron.” Zeek thumbs the keys in the ignition, starting it right up. I shake my head, and cross my arms. Who just leaves their keys in their car? Seems a lot of people do out in the middle of nowhere.

“How long till we get there?” I yawn, ready for this trip to be over. Ready for everything to be over with so I can go back home. To my mom, my house, and my cat.

“Seeing as we gotta take the backway, and we’re in this piece of shit, who knows?” He stills, catching my attention. “Just so you know, the only reason I didn’t kill that couple and take their car…was for you.”

My nostrils flare, as I take a shallow breath in, my eyes never leaving his. Who the hell is this guy, and why do I love him again? “I would have killed them any other day, but whether you realize it or not, you’re changing the way I see things.”

Who the hell is this guy, and why do I love him again?

My mouth opens, my mind racing with thoughts so fast I can’t grab one to reply back with so I turn and look out the window.

Maybe there’s hope for us after all…





CHAPTER FOUR


Jillian



AN HOUR LATER I END UP falling asleep. The same dream of the Devil’s hand clamping on my shoulder returns. The rough, reptilian hand slithers down my chest, and fondles my breast. Its sharp claws shredding my shirt, it’s rough skin coarse against my sensitive nipple. I sigh loudly, Zeek’s name ripping from my chest. The scaly hand applies pressure, its talons digging into my flesh pouring warm blood down my abdomen. Pain ignites throughout my body like I’ve never felt before, and a shrill cry erupts from my throat, as it tears into my chest, grasping my heart in the heel of its palm.

Crimson spills from my mouth as the hand leaning over my shoulder takes my heart with it.

“Jillian!” A horn honks, and I jump awake. My body soaked with sweat, and my chest heaving for air. I glance over at Zeek, who is halfway out of the driver’s seat, worry stretched across his face. “What the f*ck?” he growls.

“I—I had a bad dream.” I pant, rubbing my forehead. Shaking his head, he situates himself back in his seat. “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it. How much longer?” I ask, my voice muffled with fear.

“Well, I am worried.” He exhales a deep breath. “We’re almost there.”

Sitting up in my seat, I grab a bag of chips that hasn’t been opened, revealing three other unopened bags underneath it.

“Fucking stoners,” Zeek chuckles, grabbing a bag of Cheetos. “They get the munchies,” he continues, a boyish smile fitting his face. I try not to laugh, but I fail, and a small smile breaks through. “Ah, she smiles, finally.”

Kicking my feet on the dash, I open the bag of sour cream and onion.

“Don’t get used to it. Baby steps.”

We sit in silence, well, mostly silence. The chomping of chips, and the crinkle of the bags the only noise.

“Look in the glovebox for some pain relievers or maybe he’ll have some pot left over.”

“Really, you want me to look for drugs?” I can’t even hide the amount of sarcasm in my face.

“It’s weed, the Indians used it for healing and shit. Hell, it comes from the ground, like f*cking flowers and shit, it’s natural.”