Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“My mom’s dead. Dayton was with the officers who found her.”
Ransom’s face paled slightly, but it didn’t make him appear less intimidating.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“Brighton,” I told him.
“I’ll take you.”
“I have a rental car.”
“I will take you. Come on.” He nodded his head, stepping back so that I could exit the room. He didn’t even glance over at Dayton again.
I started to obey, then stopped when I reached him. Why was I just doing what he told me to do? Because he made my heart race? That was a weak response. I didn’t want to be weak.
“Why are you here?” I asked him again.
His lips quirked at the corners ever so slightly, as if he was amused. “Because you are.”
I shook my head. “No. You didn’t know I was here.” How could he?
He stepped closer to me and lowered his head toward my ear. “There’s not much that happens in this town that I don’t know, Shakespeare.” The low, husky timbre made my body tingle in many different places.
A smart woman would go outside, get in her rental car, and handle this herself. But I wasn’t smart, it seemed, because when I looked back at Dayton, who was watching us with curiosity and trepidation in his gaze, I knew I was going to leave here with Ransom.
“Thank you for everything,” I told him.
He nodded once. “Of course. Again, I’m sorry about your loss. Even if …” He didn’t finish that sentence.
Dayton knew I hadn’t kept in contact with her often. He’d had to call me more than once about her because I didn’t answer her calls.
When I turned back to Ransom, he was glaring at Dayton as if he’d done something wrong.
“Let’s go,” I told him, wanting to get him out of this station.
Dayton didn’t deserve whatever animosity Ransom was directing at him.
His hand rested on my lower back, and I jolted from the touch.
A low chuckle came from Ransom. “Easy, Shakespeare.”
His palm remained on my back as we walked past others in the station. I didn’t make eye contact with anyone. I kept my focus straight ahead. It felt as if every set of eyes was following us, which was probably my imagination.
The cool autumn breeze that had found its way to Madison was still warmer than what I was used to this time of year in New York. I inhaled deeply through my nose and finally stopped walking once we were almost at the parking lot.
“I can drive my rental. You don’t have to take me. I’m clearly not an emotional wreck about this,” I told him.
“My truck is right there,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of it.
“And my rental is over there.” I pointed.
His fingers wrapped around my upper arm, and he began walking again toward his truck, forcing me to go with him.
“You don’t have to drag me,” I complained.
“Would you rather I pick you up and toss you over my shoulder?”
I cut my eyes up at him. “I’m too heavy for you to do that. Not a good threat.”
He stopped then, and his brows shot up as if I’d laid down a challenge. That was not what I had been doing. When he took a step toward me, I took one back, shaking my head. Surely, he was not about to try and pick me up. The humiliation from that would be more than I could handle.
“Don’t you da—”
Before the last word could leave my mouth, I was off my feet and draped over his shoulder. I stared down at the pavement, shocked into silence. Then we were moving.
He hadn’t even grunted. Was this man taking steroids?
A loud smack landed on my butt, and the spot began to sting.
“OW!” I shouted, then began to wiggle free, but his grip around my legs was strong and unmovable.
“Keep that up, and I’ll do it again.”
I stilled.
“You hit me,” I pointed out.
“No, Shakespeare. I spanked your ass.”
The damn tingles were back, and they should be ashamed of themselves.
“Same thing!” I argued, trying to gain control over my reactions to this man.
“No, it isn’t. Hitting is what bastards do out of anger. Spanking is what happens to bad girls. You were being difficult and got spanked.”
He stopped then, and I heard the door unlock before he opened it. Then he leaned in and set me down on his leather seat. When my butt was no longer in the air and I was upright again, I looked at him, expecting him to say something, then close the door. But he didn’t move. He was close enough that I could smell the mint from his toothpaste on his breath.
“I didn’t do anything to get spanked for.” I tried to sound angry, but it came out a little breathless.
“Yeah, you did,” he replied. “You called yourself heavy. Don’t do that shit again.” Then he moved back, his eyes not leaving mine while he closed the door.