Page 5 of Riding Hard
Trouble is, I’m not supposed to be turned on… but I am.What happens to those people? Do they call the police, or do they allow for the mild kidnapping? Maybe what I should be thinking is…why do I like this?
“What are you doing?” I ask the question as though I don’t clearly see what’s happening.
Diesel laughs as heavy rain streams down his face. “Kidnapping you, I think, but it’s for your own good. I think some would call it an intervention, though. You’ll stay with me at my cabin until we figure everything out.” His voice is deep with concern, and while I want to revolt, I also want to see where this goes.
Indecision makes you weak. That’s the lesson here. For the life of me I know it’s mind over clit, but can’t I just once let it be reversed?
The big man’s boots dig into the slick mud as he carries me up the last bit of the trail and sets me next to his truck.
My clit is still leading the race for supremacy. It’s throbbing like mad. I figure it has to do with the fact that he’s lifted me from the ground and carried me up a hill. That hasn’t happened since I was a toddler. Even then, I think my parents made me walk.
“Get in,” he grumbles. “We need to talk.” He holds open the truck door and stares toward me with a dark gaze that only perpetuates the kidnapping fantasy that’s bouncing around in my head.
As much as I’d like to see how this whole thing pans out, I have my pride and a current situation that won’t get better with another man in the mix. “No. My car’s right here. I’ll sleep there tonight.”
He laughs. “You’re not sleeping in your car. Get in the truck.”
“And what?”
“And we’ll talk.” He pauses and waits for me to climb up. “Get in, or I’ll lift you in.”
As much as I’d like to see him try to wrestle me into his truck, I grip hold of the handle on the edge of the door and do as he’s asked. I’m sure the casual observer would call me easy, obedient, or even soft, but it’s pouring rain and I honestly can’t imagine what a night in my cold car would do for me. I have no blankets, barely any gas, and my clothes are all back at the tent. I’d be soaked to the bone until morning. Besides, the longer I stare at this hunk of a man, the more I want to be in his presence.
He climbs into the driver’s side and lets out a heavy breath before turning the engine and cranking the heat. “You’re soaked. You’re tired. You’ve been through God knows what… and you’re not fighting me anymore tonight. Got it?” His face is grim, and he looks angry. I’m sure we’re both having different experiences here.
He's helping out his daughter’s friend.
I’m having kidnapping fantasies like some punch-drunk teenager.
“I have plenty of room at my place. There’s an in-law suite at the back end of the cabin. It’s yours as long as you need it. You don’t even have to look at me if you don’t want to.” He throws his baseball cap on the dash. “But… you have to tell me what the hell is going on. I need to know what I’m protecting you against. Does your father hurt you?”
“What?No!” I laugh. “Is that what you think? My father is a lot of things, but he wouldn’t hurt me.”
Diesel lets out a heavy breath as though he’s relieved. His hand reaches out toward mine. “What’s going on then?”
I know this is the part where I let down my guard and spill everything I’ve held inside for way too long, but then I have to own it and until now I’ve been perfectly content pretending none of the stupid shit that happened in my life was real.
“Seriously,” he squeezes my hand, “I need to know.”
“My dad didn’t like that I left the ice cream shop for the tattoo thing. He thinks tattoos are devil stamps and a one-way ticket to hell. So, he cut me off.”
“Okay…”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I stare toward him. I’ve never told another soul in my life what’s about to spill from my lips. “But there’s more.” My stomach turns, and anxiety settles beneath my breastbone like a heavy lead weight. “My dad sells drugs out in the Springs. It’s a big operation, and he makes a load of money.”
“So… a drug dealer that thinks tattoos are the way to hell?”
I suck in a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. Well, one of the guys he sells to has this thing for me. I was flattered at first and I let him take me out. My father didn’t know. If he did, he’d have lost it. There was a strict rule about befriending anyone he dealt with.” I chew my lips. “Anyway, big surprise, the guy was a loser and when I decided I didn’t want to see him again, he thought that meant I wanted him to follow me…everywhere.”
“Is that why you came out here?”
“I met him when I went home to visit a few months back. He’s been following me ever since. He broke into the cabin I’m renting last week. And being that I’m cut off, I don’t have the money to rent anything else.”
“Why not call the cops or tell your dad the truth? I’m sure he’d protect you.”
I shake my head and stare out the side window at the pouring rain. “Did you miss the part where I told you my father is a drug dealer? We don’t involve police in anything. And my dad, well, he’s a seventy-two-year-old man. I don’t want him to stress more than he has to.”
“But he cut you off and left you with nothing. You’re not angry about that?”