Rules of Survival(37)

He kissed me.

Not a peck on the cheek like I’d braved, but an act fueled by fire and passion. My heart pounded, and I was positive it would explode. Could an eighteen-year-old girl in good health just drop dead from a sudden heart attack? Could a kiss even do that?

Sure it could. Shaun was off-limits. The enemy. That had to be exciting in some small way, not to mention the intensity of his stare, the way his shirt pulled taut over a well-muscled torso, his arms…

All the tension melted from my body and I found my lips responding to his. Soft and warm. Those were just two of the sensations that accosted my entire being, sending me reeling. I teetered square in the middle between wanting to move away and smack him, and never wanting it to end. Kissing. That was all. There were no roaming hands. No words. Just the soft brush of his lips and the warm, oddly soothing weight of his body against mine.

It seemed strange. What an odd time to feel so happy. So comforted. I was on the side of the road shackled to a guy I hardly knew, on the run not only from the police but from the people who had murdered my mom, and for the first time in almost a year—hell, maybe my whole life—I felt safe.

I was horrified. My thoughts were scattered across the map, all tingle-inducing variations of pulling him closer and taking things even further. But I didn’t get the chance.

Shaun finally pulled away. As he did, something tugged on my subconscious. An icy chill replaced the comforting warmth, and cleared the fuzzy cobwebs away. The rules. This was against the rules. Why? Because, as shocking as it was to admit it—even if only to myself—I actually liked Shaun. He was honest and loyal—not to mention extremely easy on the eyes.

And sure, he was helping me now, but I couldn’t forget that he’d tried to cash in on my fugitive status and collect the nice chunk of change attached to my head, which is what had gotten us into this mess to begin with. God. Mom would think I’d lost my marbles—which I obviously had.

Shaun must have sensed the wrongness of it all, too, because he sighed and said, “That was really—”

“Wrong?” I supplied. “Twisted? Backward?”

He ran his free hand through his messy hair. “Well, bad timing, yeah, but I dunno about wrong… I was about to say—wait. Twisted?”

I turned my head toward the road. Suddenly I couldn’t stand the thought of looking him in the eye. It was too personal. Way too intimate. “It’s like you’re rap and I’m heavy metal. They just don’t go together.”

“I disagree,” he said, leaning in again. I could feel his warm breath puffing across my cheek and I had to resist the urge to move closer. “There have been some awesome rap/metal collaborations.”

I shivered. He answered in a music analogy. Holy shit. That might just be enough to redeem him in Mom’s eyes. I shook it off and pointed to myself. “Hunted…” Then I pointed to him. “Hunter.”

“Wasn’t it you who kept insisting you weren’t a criminal?”

He finally got it.

“Plus, there’s a fine line between us, Kayla. Almost nonexistent. You said so yourself, and you’re right. Most hunters break more laws than the people they’re bringing in. The big difference is that we haven’t gotten caught for the things we’ve done. Yet.”

I turned back to him. “I think it’s more complicated than that.”

“I’m sure you do. I also get the feeling you over think things.” He climbed to his feet and helped me do the same. Shrugging, he said, “Besides, it was just a damn kiss.”

“Right,” I said casually, but his words stung. I didn’t expect anything—hell, I didn’t want anything—but he made the whole thing seem so average. So run-of-the-mill. It hadn’t felt that way to me. But maybe it had for him. He’d probably had lots of girlfriends. I just happened to be here at the moment, and he was a guy. I was a way to fill the time.

“Right,” he repeated.

Suddenly I was aware of a nagging, borderline painful pressure in my lower abdomen. I glanced down at the cuffs and froze. “And really, we have a bigger problem…”

He tensed. “What?”

I held up our joined hands. “I have to pee.”





Chapter Thirteen


Luckily we found a twenty-four-hour truck stop about half a mile up the road. A part of me worried about running into Jaffe’s men, but a bigger part had to pee. Some things just took precedence.

“Okay.” I swallowed and tugged on the chain. “You can turn around now.”

We were crammed into the tiny unisex bathroom at the back of the truck stop. Unfortunately the toilet was too far from the door to make it work without both of us being in the room. The faucet was running so I could drown out the sound, but it didn’t do much. I’d just had to use the restroom while shackled to the guy I’d shared a mind-blowing kiss with. As far as horrific went, I was pretty sure I’d just hit a new all-time low.

That was saying a lot.

Standing in front of the mirror, I kept my head turned away as Shaun took his turn. I cringed at my reflection—talk about a mess. My shoulder-length brown hair hung limp and was adorned with several leaves. Picking them out one by one, I then moved on to my dirt-streaked face. A smear under my left eye, and another across the right cheek, made it look like bad camouflage.