Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

BENJI

Was it technically hitchhiking if I smuggled myself into the back of a truck? Even if it wasn't, I'd already decided that I was going to call it that, because it made me feel better about carefully testing handles until I found my ticket to escape.

I wouldn't have done it normally. Then again, normally, I would have just gotten into my car and taken myself wherever I wanted to go.

Since Mitchy had my car, my wallet, my… everything, and I was doing my best to get away from him… Well, desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

It didn't make me feel any better about throwing myself under a blanket and hoping the driver wouldn't notice I was there until we were at least a few hours out of town.

I could work with a few hours. I'd have time to figure my shit out by then. I might even be able to come up with an appropriate exit strategy for when he found me.

It didn't help that the man who climbed into the cab of the truck was enormous . There were people milling around the stop, getting coffee and stretching their legs. Somehow, I'd climbed into the vehicle of the biggest, broadest bastard of the whole lot.

It's probably why he left his door unlocked—who was going to be stupid enough to fuck with him?

Apparently, the answer was me.

I just had to hope it would all be worth it in the end, otherwise there was no point in me running to begin with.

I think I would have been fine if he hadn't started singing .

It was soft, a low rumble of his voice that filled the cab and made me settle in a way that I hadn't in years. There was always an edge, always a part of me that felt like I was on fire. Something about his voice was like rain—a cool mist on my skin that soothed all the restless pieces in my chest that had never stayed still a day in my life.

A siren song.

A trap .

I didn't realize how tired I was until I closed my eyes, and I didn't realize how fucked I was until I opened them again and found him staring down at me.

"Fuck," I whispered. The curse came from somewhere deep in my chest, and I tried to flatten my body further against the floor—the blanket I'd hidden under was clutched in one of his hands, and the other was wrapped around my throat. Just tight enough for me to feel it.

It really shouldn't have sent a thrill dancing through my body, shouldn't have lit me up like a live wire… but…

"You have a beautiful voice."

His blue eyes narrowed, the tumbles of his long, sandy blond hair doing nothing to obscure the mixture of confusion and outrage in his expression.

Fucking lumberjack of a man. If he wanted to, he could probably crush my throat with just those fingers wrapped around my neck.

He also could have kept me pinned to the floor with his big body and done anything to me.

If he wanted to.

The thought made me shiver, and it wasn't just in fear.

Fuck, Benji. You really are screwed up .

"What are you doing in my truck?" The low drawl of his voice was nearly as soothing as his singing. It was almost hypnotic, and it drew an answer out of me that I wasn't sure I wanted to give.

"I'm running," I said softly. I had to think, had to figure out how to spin this situation in my favor. As much as I'd wanted to keep myself a secret, maybe sneak out of his truck when he took a break for the night…

Well…

"Running from what?" I didn't miss the way his fingers flexed on my throat, or how his thumb stroked along the rapid-fire beat of my pulse. But his honey-colored brows drew together, and the curiosity and concern was there.

I was small. Fragile. I was a big, dark stare, and black hair tumbling into too wide eyes.

I could do this.

"My ex-boyfriend's brother. He wants…" I flicked my eyes to the side and licked my lips. "He wants me dead."

The man on top of me stilled—it was almost like seeing a big cat getting caught in the middle of stalking its prey, not sure if it wanted to pounce or flee.

Pounce . I needed him to pounce.

"Please," I forced the word out in a soft, breathy voice. "I'm sorry I snuck into your truck… I just didn't know what else to do." My lids fluttered shut and I drew in a soft breath. "I didn't know where else to go."

I didn't have to open my eyes to feel his big body give—just slightly, just enough that the weight of him straddling me to pin me to the ground shifted. I could have squirmed out from beneath him, could have flung open the truck door and ran.

I could have done a lot of things. Instead, I lifted my hand and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, then looked up at him.

"Please?"

There was something in his gaze—in the way he looked me up and down once before slowly nodding—that told me his truck door had been opened for a reason, that I'd picked him for a reason. I'd always been a lucky son of a bitch.

Finally, he frowned and sat back on his heels. His body still loomed over me, but he pulled back, leaving a sting of heat where his fingers had been on my neck.

I watched him glance down at his hand, flex and unflex his digits like he could still feel me, too. It was only a second, and then he looked back up at me.

"Where are you headed?"

I shifted up on my elbows and smiled up at him. "Guess that depends. Where are you going?"