Summer Camp Captive

A wave of need sends me back to the window, searching for Lainey on the street even though she hasn’t had enough time to shop yet. I’ve become even more anxious since she missed her period. A pregnancy test is one of the items on her shopping list, and I’m torn between lust over her potentially swelling stomach and fear that she’ll eventually go through pain because of me.

My desire to tuck her into bed for the length of the pregnancy isn’t going to fly, either. Not with my Lainey. The summer is almost over, so she’ll no longer be working at the camp, but I know she’s already planning on finding another job once it ends. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Right now, I have to get through a mere trip to the store—

Lainey comes into view and I start to smile, relief filtering into my stomach…

Until I realize she’s running. From a man.

My roar puts a crack in the window.

Chapter Twelve

Lainey

Didn’t I know he wouldn’t stop looking?

At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me in the store, but no. It was him, watching me from the opposite end of the frozen food section. The man who took money from my mother in exchange for my freedom.

I didn’t think, I just dropped my hand basket full of food and started to run. My Swiss Army knife is in my boot, but my pursuer carries a gun. I’m outmatched and I’m not taking chances, especially because I might be carrying a new life inside me. Carver watches me from the window, so I knew as long as I got outside, I would be safe. And that’s where I am now. I’ve just broken free of the sliding glass door and I’m gunning toward our building when I hear my king let loose an unholy sound that stops pedestrians in their tracks.

Without turning around, I know the pimp is probably wondering if hell has opened up and set a demon free, but I don’t stop to confirm. No, I keep running, my knees almost giving out when Carver slams out of our building onto the street, wrath contorting his features and making him seem twice as large as usual.

People in the neighborhood have learned to love Carver since he left the woods and we moved in together in town. He rescues cats from trees, helps little old ladies with their bags and makes everyone feel safer, in general. They know if he’s angry, it’s because I’m somehow in jeopardy…so instead of running away, every head on the street turns in my direction. Based on their shocked expressions, I’m still being chased by the man. I pick up speed.

“Lainey!” bellows Carver, beating a fist on his chest. “Mine!”

Another few seconds and I’ve reached him, sobbing in relief when he pushes me behind his wall of a body. “That’s him,” I whimper, clinging to the back of his shirt. “You can’t kill him, though. Please. They’ll take you away from me.”

I have no idea if Carver hears me or not…and now all I can do is hope the situation turns out okay. Peeking around his right side, I watch the pimp skid to a halt in front of us, his face draining of color. “Jesus Christ.”

“As far as you’re concerned, I might as well be,” Carver grinds out. “Because I’m going to decide whether you live or die.”

Noticing his audience, the man draws himself up to his full height, which is still two feet less than Carver’s. “I paid good money for her.”

Carver’s back muscles ripple against my cheek. “How much? I will repay you and you will never think of her again.”

“It won’t be enough,” the man spits. “I would have made a fortune off her.”

That statement turns out to be a mistake. Carver stalks forward, despite my pitiful attempts to hold him back. He circles the pimp’s neck with a fist—and lifts him clear off the ground. “Look me in the eyes. Do you think I would allow you to take her from me? If you actually succeeded, do you think there’s a place on this earth you could hide that I wouldn’t find and tear you apart?” His ear-splitting growl sends several spectators running. “If you haven’t left this place in two minutes, I will snap the head clear off your body.”

“Fine,” chokes the man, his lips beginning to turn white. “Fine, just…just p-put me down.”

Carver tosses the man like a rag doll into the street. I watch from my position at Carver’s side as he stands, trips, gets up again and runs to a white Honda. As my would-be pimp peels out of town, I circle around to the front of Carver and hold up my arms. He boosts me up and I wrap both legs around his thick waist, my wrists locked behind his neck. “Thank you. I’m sorry you were scared,” I whisper, laying kisses on his neck and cheeks. “It’s over now. Take me home.”