Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(4)



There’s no way I can escape him now. He’s going to keep me prisoner, lock me away before he’ll let me escape. He’s crazy. Fucking nuts.

“Get up.” He holds his hand out for me to grab, but I just turn my head. He seriously didn’t think I was going to be the cooperating kind of prisoner, did he?

Bending down he grips me by the waist, and throws me over his strong shoulder with haste.

“You don’t want to listen? Fine. We’ll do it my way,” he pants, heading back to the farm truck.

“I hate you.” My words come out honest, and surprising. How can you love and hate someone all at the same time? I love him so much, that it fuels my hatred for this man.

My affection for him came quick, and was extremely unrealistic. It came like a hurricane, and was unstoppable. Most things in life that cause the most damage sneak up on you like that, not giving much warning before it completely uproots your life destroying anything and everything you worked so hard for. Before you know it, love has impaled your soul, feeding it piece by piece to the bad boys we fall so stupidly for.





CHAPTER TWO


Jillian



MY BODY BOUNCES UP AND DOWN as the truck races down the dirt road in the outskirts of Nevada. The cool, steel cuffs biting into my wrists painfully. I can’t help but scowl at Zeek. My heart filled with heartache, fear, and love. I want someone to rip my chest open and dig my heart out with a dull knife, to take away the unbearable emotions I can’t comprehend or bare any longer.

Looking out of the corner of my eye I notice Zeek holding his arm, his face scrunched in distress as he glances down. Pulling his palm away blood stains his hand and shirt.

“Oh my God, Zeek, you’re bleeding!” I begin to sweat nervously, scared he’s really hurt. “Did I do that?”

“No, I caught one getting back to the car when we ran. It didn’t act up until I had to chase your ass across the desert and haul you back, then it started burning like a bitch.”

“We need to get you to a hospital.”

“Oh, now you care? Weren’t you just shooting at me?” He shakes his head. “I’ll never understand women.” His sarcasm is not lost on me, but I ignore it. When someone you care about is hurt it apparently sets your ill feelings aside giving fear a front row seat. I think that’s how you know if you really love someone, if you can put your differences away to focus on your significant other’s well-being. “And, hell no to the hospital, it’s not safe,” he adds, pulling me from my thoughts.

“You need to be seen, Zeek, something critical could have been hit.” Sliding over I peel up the sleeve of his shirt and see a bullet wound biting into the flesh of his arm. It’s bleeding profusely. Pulling his arm up I inspect for an exit wound, hoping the bullet went clean through, but there’s nothing.

“I got it under control, calm your tits. Damn!”

I arch a brow, my mouth falling open, offended.

“Did you really just say that to me?”

He shrugs, bending down he pulls up a greasy red rag from the floorboard. Using his knee he steers the truck, and wraps the dirty rag from the floorboard around his bicep. Using his teeth and one hand he ties it tightly around the wound.

A groan vibrates from his chest, his eyes squeezing shut.

“You sure?”

He adjusts himself in his seat, taking back control of the wheel. “I’m sure. Drop it.”

Knowing he didn’t hit an artery and isn’t dying, my anger floods my fear, and I scoot back to my side of the truck. He’s such a dick.

My stomach growls loudly, and Zeek turns his head toward me, glancing down at my stomach. I’m surprised he heard it with the loud radio playing “Hideaway” by Daya. A song that is making me see things for the first time.

“You hungry?”

I don’t answer. I don’t need a damn thing from him. Unless he’s going to let me go, that is. My poor mom, I bet she’s a wreck right now. I wonder if she’s doing okay. I wonder what Alessandra is thinking knowing I’m with Zeek…and on the run?

“We’re going to have to stop at some point. We need to eat, come up with a plan.” He’s talking to himself at this point, because I’m now looking out the window, acting as if I’m ignoring him. I’m lost in my thoughts of Alessandra and my mother. I hope one of them feed Jinx while I’m gone. “Not talking to me is just going to piss me off.” He growls, his voice deep and angry.

I huff, and roll my eyes. “And I could care f*cking less,” I mutter under my breath even though I wanted to yell it at him, but honestly I made sure he didn’t hear it. You tend to tread lightly when you’re riding shotgun to a murderer who kidnapped you and handcuffed you. The truck suddenly makes a distressed clunking noise, throwing Zeek and me forward in our seats as the vehicle dies. Zeek’s face narrows in confusion as he eyes the dashboard.

“Shit, it’s out of gas.”

“Nice grand theft auto skills.”

Slowly turning his head he lifts a brow at me.

“I didn’t see you coming up with any options back there.”

My mouth falls open as I nod. “I did, actually, it’s something your kind isn’t familiar with though. It’s called turn ourselves in. Remember that?”

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