Wrong Way Home - Taken (Criminal Delights 1)

It was only then that he remembered the shock collar around his neck and touched the lock at the front. Taron could be bluffing about its properties, but could Colin afford to risk it?

The car took off, with a crunch of gravel beneath its wheels. The timing of this random attack was odd. Was McGraw the person who Taron had a scuffle with earlier in town?

Colin burst out of the chicken house. The fresh air blew into his lungs, but he only felt at peace once he stood next to Taron and touched his warm skin. “He wanted to kill you,” he whispered in disbelief.

“Fucking shitbag,” Taron whispered, even though Colin could hear the effort he needed to put into choking out the words. His chest was heaving, and yet Colin wasn’t afraid of the gun in his hand.

“How does he know?” Colin demanded, curling his hands on the waistband of Taron’s jeans.

Taron emptied the gun and put it away so he could sign. Even in sign language, it sounded like a euphemism.

Colin felt heat rush to his head, filling it as if it were a balloon about to float into the air. “You don’t say,” he uttered, hesitating, but in the end he put his arms around Taron and rested his cheek on his chest. He did it to communicate his distress to the man who he needed to consider as his protector for the time being, but the heat of the skin that still smelled like their sweat combined, and the tickle of body hair against his face made him melt into the sturdiness of Taron’s body.

The regular thumping of his heart—slower and easier than Colin’s own—brought unexpected relief, but then Taron cupped the back of Colin’s head and stroked it, as if Colin really was a new kitten he needed to take care of. One Taron hadn’t chosen to adopt, and yet had no other choice but to keep.

That was it. Colin had found Taron’s weakness, and he would exploit it, both for the sake of his future escape, and in order to make his stay in Taron’s home more bearable. The fact that Taron was an attractive man was a bonus, but being held like this still made his body react as if they weren’t captor and abductee. It was just the feedback loop—an emotional reaction to a physical stimuli—but he chose not to talk himself out of letting warmth and touch fool him.

“But how does he know? What did Peter do that his brother thinks you might have killed him?”

When Taron pushed at Colin’s shoulders, Colin felt bitter about the rejection at first, but then he realized Taron needed the distance to effectively communicate his thoughts.

Colin stared at him, at first unsure if he understood him right. “Killed it?”

Taron took a deep breath, and his signing became so erratic Colin had to focus to understand it all. To Colin’s disbelief, Taron rubbed his reddened eyes with his hairy forearm.

Colin stepped away and shook his head, taken aback. “What a psycho...”

Taron sniffed, but his expression was carved in stone.

Colin felt his heartbeat under the collar, tightening around his neck like an invisible rope and pulling him Taron’s way. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry about Sacramento. People like McGraw don’t deserve a place in society. What kind of monster does such a thing to a defenseless animal?” he asked, placing his hand on Taron’s back.

And yet in the bright spring sun, Taron’s green eyes were nothing like those of a monster. His size spoke of strength, but Colin was slowly getting the idea that Taron didn’t use his massive hands to strangle people, but to chop down trees.

He’d never wanted a captive. He only kept Colin here because he didn’t want to spend his life behind bars, and he couldn’t trust Colin to keep his mouth shut. Maybe that was the key? Maybe one day Taron would trust Colin enough to let him go?