I fucking do know this, but I also know that she's pushing her boundaries to see how far she can go with me, just like she always does. Only this time this is no curfew or frat party she's sneaking into.
She'll learn to behave.
"I said be quiet. If you speak again until I tell you to, I'm going to pull this car over and gag you." I shake my head. "Khristos."
Her jaw drops so fast it's almost comical, but to her credit she doesn't speak. For a whole minute.
"Where are we going? Can you at least tell me that?"
She needs to learn that I mean what I say, and she needs to learn that now.
I look in the rearview mirror, confirming no one's followed us, then pull over onto the side of the road. Gravel crunches beneath the tires as I skid to a stop. Her body stills, her hands placed firmly on her lap, her gaze slowly coming to me. I look around the vacant interior of the car and find nothing suitable to gag her with. We left with fucking nothing but the clothes on my back, the weapons on my body and in my glove box, and my wallet. She's got nothing but the clothes she's wearing, and her phone, which is now mine.
She's wearing a skimpy little black dress, her hair hanging about her in billowy waves. I've got nothing that would work to gag her and wish I hadn't made the damn threat. I could use my belt, but gagging with a belt is clumsy and awkward.
I'm wearing a button-down dress shirt and a t-shirt underneath. I quickly unbutton the shirt and toss it aside, then yank off my t-shirt. She watches me in wide-eyed fascination, flushing madly when she looks at my bare chest, crisscrossed with tattoos and scars. It's the first time she's looked at me like this that I've noticed, and my stomach tightens.
The air between us crackles, and I'm vividly aware of the way her breath is coming in ragged, labored gasps.
"Okay," she says, holding her hands up in the air as if in surrender. "I'll—I'll be quiet," she stammers, turning away from me. "Please. I'll do what you say but I—mmmphhh!"
I've twisted the t-shirt into a sort of rope and threaded it between her lips, tying it into a knot at the back of her head.
Her muffled anger fades to garbled pleading, which I stoutly ignore, then I sit back heavily down beside her and put my shirt back on. She watches every move before her hands fall into her lap helplessly as I pull back on the road, intent on getting to our first stop. I pick up my phone and dial Rafael.
"You got her?"
"Yeah," I tell him. "Anyone know yet?"
"No. Laina's confirming her story, so it’ll be a few days until everyone knows. Hopefully by then you'll find what you need to."
"Hopefully."
I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing with her. Where the fuck we're going. What the fuck I'll do when I get there, or how she's going to react.
We drive for several hours, until her head bobs to the side and she's dozing off, and it's almost normal, almost natural even, like we're a couple on a fucking road trip. But I know better, and my conscience doesn't relent for a second. What I want to do to her now that I have her alone, now that the brotherhood of Bratva brothers isn't hovering over me, should land me in jail for life.
But she looks so pretty and helpless, lying against the door, my t-shirt gagging her pretty mouth. It's undeniably erotic, having her under my control.
When my eyes burn from lack of sleep and I'm convinced no one's followed us, that we have this momentary freedom, I finally decide to stop at a hotel somewhere in the Carolinas.
"Marissa." I gently push her shoulder, and she wakes with a start, mumbling and flailing. She's frightened. She ought to be. Still, I need to settle her.
I lean over and gently restrain her, pushing her wild limbs down and kneeling on one knee beside her.
"Stop it," I order.
She looks at me then out the window and back again, her tear-filled eyes flashing with something I can't quite place, but soon the heated glare is unmistakable. She's pissed, and hell if that doesn't make my cock hard just looking at her.
She's gorgeous any day. She's stunning when she's angry.
"Mmmph."
Kneeling beside her, with my hands at the back of her head on the gag, I instruct her. "I will remove this gag if you promise to do exactly what I say. Do you understand me?"
She nods wildly.
I unknot my t-shirt and pull the gag free. She rubs her mouth and looks down, momentarily chastened while waiting for me to free her, though her eyes quickly flash at me again before she schools her features. I quickly unbutton my shirt and pull the slightly damp t-shirt back on, inhaling deeply but turning away from her so she doesn't know how the shirt, permeated with her scent and essence, affects me. I swallow hard, keeping my face stern and immovable.