Deep Wood

"I know what to do with it."

"Do you know how to get out of a choke hold? How to stop a guy from choking you with his cock?"

"I know how to punch a guy in the balls, yes"

"That's a good way to piss him off. And a pissed off sociopath can quickly become more trouble than you bargained for. You don't exactly look like you could take a punch."

"You don't know what I can take." What I've already taken...

Cold sweat drips down my back. Maybe my intuition was wrong. What if this guy is dangerous?

He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. He sighs, his expression softening. "You shouldn't be offering blow jobs to strangers in the first place. It's dangerous. I'm old enough to be your dad."

"Maybe I like that." I’ve only had one boyfriend, and if he’s any indication, I guess my usual type is tall, dark-haired and lanky. He’s a few years older than me, at twenty-five—okay, maybe more than

a few—but my point is, even though this guy is way older than Brody and built like a lumberjack, I don’t completely hate the idea of sucking his cock. Just...you know...not right now.

"How old are you?” he asks.

I stiffen. “Twenty-one.”

He straight-up laughs in my face.

“Sure, sweetheart. If you’re twenty-one, I’m sixty-five.” In the glow from the dashboard, he doesn’t look a day over forty. He pinches the spot between his eyes. “Look, I really just wanted to give you a ride. Your companionable silence from here on out will be thanks enough. All right?”

I lift my backpack onto my lap and fold my arms around it. “Fine.”

He shifts into drive. "Now put your goddamn seatbelt on. And keep your hands where I can see 'em."

He turns the truck around, taking us back toward the main road. I lean my head against the window, surprised to feel at once frustrated and...relieved. I don’t know where I’m going to find money now, but I can at least settle in for the rest of the ride and not have to worry about my safety.

We drive the darkened roads in silence. For the first time in weeks, I feel my body start to relax. At one point, I think I hear my dad whistling, then realize I must’ve drifted off. Not the smartest idea, falling asleep in a stranger’s car. But something about this man makes me want to let my guard down.

Eventually, we come to the intersection I’ve been waiting for. I sit up straighter in my seat.

"Turn left up ahead," I tell him. He makes the turn. I direct him to a dirt road about a mile and a half from the cabin. My body might trust him not to do anything nefarious on the road, but that doesn’t mean I want him knowing where I lay my head. "You can pull over here.”

"Pull over where?" he asks.

"Anywhere along this road.”

He slows the truck to a crawl but doesn’t stop.

"It's pitch black out,” he says.

"I have a flashlight." I unbuckle my seatbelt and unzip my bag, waiting for him to park.

“Where’s your cabin?”

My muscles tense. “It’s around.”

"I don’t like the idea of dropping you off in the woods in the middle of the night."

"I'll be fine, seriously."

He shakes his head. “Just tell me where your cabin is, and I’ll take you there.”

My heart starts to pound. “Stop the car, please.”