Honor Bound(14)

"Yes," she agreed. Perhaps a little too quickly.

Greywolf raised his head slightly and, staring down into her eyes, reached beneath the table. Even before she saw the blade of the knife reflecting the dim lights, she realized he had drawn it from his boot. "Don't make me use this, Aislinn. Particularly on you."

"Why not on me?"

His eyes slid down her body suggestively. "Because after spending such a pleasurable afternoon feeling you up, I'd hate to hurt you."

"I hope you burn in hell," she said, pushing each word of the harsh condemnation through her teeth.

"And I'm sure your wish will be granted." He said no more, but turned his attention back to the couple at the bar. He watched them like a hawk, his gray eyes unwavering. When the sheriff's hand made an exploratory pass across Stella's breast, then paused to investigate, Greywolf said, "Now."

Aislinn had expected him to slink out of the booth and through the door. Instead, he jerked her to her feet suddenly, giving him the element of surprise. It worked to his benefit beautifully. She slumped against him to regain her balance. His arm wrapped around her waist, securing her to his side. She pressed her fists against his chest, angling her body away from his, and opened her mouth. All that came out, however, was a short gasp. He slipped the knife up between their bodies.

"Don't." His raspy voice was dangerously calm, cool, and collected. It effectively changed her mind about trying to escape him now.

They made their staggering progress toward the door, his head bent low over hers as though he was drunk.

"Hey, mister."

Aislinn's footsteps faltered, but Greywolf's didn't. He kept going.

"Hey, mister! I'm talking to you, Chief."

Against her cheek, she felt Greywolf's aggravated expulsion of breath before he halted and lifted his head. "Yeah?" he asked of Ray, who had addressed him.

"We got rooms in the back," he said, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. "You and your lady want one for the evenin'?"

"No thanks," Lucas said. "Gotta get her home before her ol' man gets back."

Ray chuckled lewdly and went back to watching the detective series that was now blaring forth from the television. The sheriff, pouring all his romantic passions into the kiss he was grinding onto Stella's receptive mouth, never even looked up. Once she was outside, Aislinn's lungs drank in the pure air. She didn't think she'd ever filter the dank smell of beer and stale tobacco smoke out of her nasal passages. Greywolf wasted no time on luxuries like deep, cleansing breathing, but hustled her into the car.

Within minutes they had put several miles between them and the Tumbleweed. Only then did he breathe deeply. He rolled down the window and seemed to relish the wind beating against his face. "You're becoming very good at eluding the law," he remarked.

"I didn't like having that knife against my ribs," she shot back.

"You weren't supposed to."

He seemed to know where he was going, though Aislinn knew this wasn't a well-traveled highway they were on now. The lanes were narrow. There were few signs. No lights. Shoulders were nonexistent. Other cars were few and far between. When they met them, she held her breath out of fear of crashing head-on.

Greywolf drove fast, but safely. Before long, staring at the white stripes chasing each other down the center of the highway became hypnotic and she nodded off. But only moments later, Greywolf's blistering curse rent the silence.

"Dammit all to hell!"

"Is somebody following us?" she asked hopefully, sitting up and glancing behind them.

"The heat light just came on."

Her spirits sank as low as her weary shoulders. For a moment she had entertained the hope that the sheriff or somebody in the Tumbleweed had recognized Greywolf, but had played it safe and not tried to apprehend him until reinforcements could be called in. "It was doing that this afternoon," she said, slumping back against the seat.

He swiveled his head around and glared at her. His face was illuminated only by the lights on the dashboard. They lent it a greenish cast, making it look even more fearsome. His eyes were pale, silver, furious. "You mean the engine was actually overheating this afternoon?"

"Didn't you hear me tell that to the highway patrolman at the roadblock?"

"I thought that was just part of your act," he shouted.

"Well it wasn't."

"So why didn't you say something before I pulled onto this abandoned highway?"

"You didn't ask!"

He ended the shouting match with a curse she couldn't possibly champion for fear of being struck by lightning. Her lower teeth almost went through the roof of her mouth when he suddenly steered the car off the highway. "Where are you going?" she asked fearfully.

"I have to let the car cool off or the engine will burn up completely. I can't do anything to repair it in the dark anyway." He drove the car several hundred yards off the highway. The terrain was so rough that Aislinn had to brace her hands against the dash to keep from getting jostled onto the floorboard. When they finally came to a standstill the motor was hissing like a boiling teakettle. Greywolf pushed his door open and got out. He leaned his back against the car and bowed his head.

"Damn! I've wasted so much time today. First in that godforsaken tavern. Now this." He appeared to be extremely upset over the forced delay. He walked toward the hood of the car and viciously kicked one of the tires, cursing expansively.