Read Fever for Free Online Page B

develop a plan for the stop. “How long?”
    “Couple minutes.” Creek surveyed her, mouth turned down in disapproval. “Take off your shirt.”
    She scrunched one side of her face in contempt. “No.”
    “That blue thing has the hospital logo on it.” He gestured at her with one careless hand. “Everyone’s going to be looking for you in those ...”
    “Scrubs,” she finished for him. “And, let me rephrase so you understand— hell, no.”
    He met her eyes with determination and a set jaw. “Take it off, or I’ll take it off for you.”
    “Aw, yeah,” Taz piped up. “Now we’re gettin’ some action.”
    Alyssa had to press her mouth tight to keep from telling the idiot to shut up. When she made no move toward taking her shirt off, Creek slid over the vinyl bench and snagged the hem that had come untucked hours ago.
    Alyssa leaned away, her cuffed hands pushing at his. A sweep of panic heated her chest. “No. Don’t. Leave me alone.”
    Taz laughed and chanted, “Go-go-go.”
    Creek grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head. He yanked the fabric down her arms into a bundle at the cuffs. The cool air prickled her skin beneath the white tank top remaining. She curled in on herself to minimize exposure. That’s when she noticed the hole in her scrubs, irregular brown marks along the edge. She wasn’t imagining things. He had burned her.
    Taz watched in the rearview mirror and hit a curb as he pulled alongside a closed gas station-slash-mini mart. He shoved the car into park, twisted and laid one arm over the seat.
    “Look what the skinny bitch was hiding under those baggy clothes.” Taz’s excited, bright eyes raked over Alyssa and fastened on her breasts as if he could see through her clothes. “Thought I felt a melon in there. Keep going, Creek. I wanna see that rack.”
    Stomach in her throat, Alyssa scanned the area, searching for an escape route. For someone who could help her. But the gas station wasn’t closed as she’d first thought—it was abandoned. Tendrils of panic coiled around her lungs.
    Creek fisted the chain between her hands, shoved the door open and dragged her across the seat. Would he beat her? Burn her? Kill her? She forced her mind back to the vulnerable areas of the body she could target: a fist to the temple, flat of the hand to the nose, knuckles to the philtrum, side chop to the adam’s apple—
    “Keep watch,” Creek said to Taz as he pulled Alyssa to her feet and grabbed the smaller bag of clothes from the floorboard. “Don’t do anything. No stroll, no smoke. Nothing, got it?”
    Taz jerked his chin. “Am I gonna get a piece of her when you’re through?”
    “We’ll see.” Creek slammed the door and towed Alyssa toward two doors, where painted blue circles identified men’s and women’s bathrooms.
    No . She couldn’t go in there with him. She’d be trapped. But running wasn’t much of an option either. The landscape around the deserted gas station was a barren sea of flat dirt and scraggly shrubs. Nobody within screaming distance. No haven within running distance. But the approaching darkness might actually be her friend.
    Without any solid plan, Alyssa gathered all her strength, drove down with both hands, then jerked upward. To her utter shock, her hands wrenched free of his grip. A second seemed to float, suspended in time, before she could make her feet move.
    As the surprise cleared from Creek’s face, he made a grab for her hands. Alyssa spun and pushed into a kick start. Gravel slipped beneath her feet. Creek’s big hand grabbed the back of her tank. Fabric ripped. Bra snapped. Creek whipped an arm around her waist. Twisted her body. Slung her over his shoulder. Just that quick, as if he’d done it countless times before.
    “Fucking A,” he growled. “You are the biggest pain in the ass.”
    “Let me go.” Alyssa beat on his back with the cuff edge, kicked her feet, and twisted. Nothing loosened his grip. Nothing