Convict (Sin City Salvation 2)

“Thanks, brother.” I nodded.

He gestured me through the gates, and I leaned forward, accelerating in the direction that Kodiak had pointed me. He couldn’t know it, but his words only confirmed my worst fears. She must have been injured. It was the only logical conclusion.

The warehouse sat at the back of the compound, nestled into a slab of concrete protected by thick adobe walls and the rocky terrain behind it. The landscape was dotted with cactuses and red rock formations, and we’d chosen it specifically for that reason. Anyone who wanted to come at our supply would have to do it through the front gates. Most people with a lick of common sense wouldn’t attempt to scale those ridges, but most people weren’t Birdie. She was reckless and impulsive, and this incident only served as proof of that.

When I pulled to a stop, I saw her plain as day, squatting on a rock in an orange skirt and a scrap of fabric she’d call a tank top. It wasn’t immediately obvious from where I sat if she was injured, but she stayed put as I climbed toward her. The late afternoon sun bathed her silhouette in an earthy glow, highlighting the long tan legs stretched out in front of her. Against the terra cotta landscape of the desert, she was a mirage. A goddess on fire. For a split second, I paused just to take it all in. Birdie wasn’t of this world, and I didn’t need any other evidence of that than this moment. Her beauty was hypnotic in a way that could only be compared to myths and legends.

She squinted into the bright light of day and met my gaze. Her escape hadn’t taken her very far, and it was evident she hadn’t planned it out. The gold sandals wrapped around her feet weren’t built for climbing, and the proof was in the torn leather strap on her left foot.

“Are you injured?” I asked.

Her lip quivered, and she turned away, refusing to acknowledge me. Internally, my concerns amplified as I fought to maintain control. Birdie didn’t show her emotions easily. Something had happened, and her silence was the trigger to the loaded cocktail of fears only she could manage to induce.

“Get your ass up, or I’m going to carry you down myself,” I demanded.

She climbed to her feet; electric blue eyes boring into me as she crossed her arms. My gaze swept over her, seeking out signs that confirmed or allayed my suspicions. From what I could tell, she was in one piece, and I should have been happy with that, but my mood didn’t improve.

I gestured for her to move, and she did. Beside her, I remained tense, ready to catch her if she fell. The journey down the ridge was uneventful, and Birdie still hadn’t said a word when I tucked her onto the back of my bike and instructed her to hold on. I stewed the whole fucking five-minute ride home. Her silence was more abrasive than her defiance, and I couldn’t figure out why. The only reaction I managed to squeeze from her was when I escorted her inside the house and slammed the door behind us. She flinched as she finally turned to look at me, but my eyes were on Trouble.

“Out.”

Trouble knew better than to say a word as she made a beeline out of the house. The moment she was gone, Birdie tried to walk away too, but this wasn’t even close to being over. Caving into my urges, I reached out and fisted a handful of her hair, forcing her to stop abruptly. When she turned and saw the inferno in my eyes, hers widened. Her breasts swelled as she drew in a deep breath, and the bulk of my blood traveled south, engorging my cock so severely I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to bend her over and fuck her until she wouldn’t think twice about running off on me again, but that wasn’t on the table. It couldn’t ever be on the fucking table.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my fingers around her jaw as I stepped into her space and leaned down to growl into her ear. “Surrender, Birdie. I fucking own you now.”

The statement came out of nowhere, and I didn’t recognize the ferocity in my tone. When Birdie looked up at me, her breath blew across my throat as she exhaled, and my eyes drifted to her lips. So soft and full and venomous. I imagined for a second what it would be like to taste them. I’d never had a need to kiss a woman before. Kissing was for lovers, and I was a taker. But right now, I wanted to know her taste. I wanted to breathe her in as our lips burned with the fire of this undeniable heat between us.