22
T he person seemed to just disappear.
Had they been there at all?
Was he seeing things? Or had that been her stalker out there?
Moving much more swiftly, he got to the car and opened the passenger door. “Bebe, we must go quickly.”
“What? Why?”
“I saw someone in the woods.”
“W-what? W-who?” she asked, her teeth chattering as he did up her seatbelt.
“I don’t know. But I’m not waiting around to see if they make themselves known. Not when I’ve got precious cargo onboard.”
Shutting the door, he ran around to his side of the car, his head turning back and forth.
Fuck. He wished Hayes was here.
Getting in, he locked the doors and sped off.
“S-seatbelt?” she asked.
“You’ve got yours on, baby. I secured it.”
“No. Y-you.”
Corbin glanced over at her, trying to determine how she was doing, but there wasn’t enough light.
“I’m f-fine.”
“Corbin. S-seatbelt.”
Shit. fuck. Fine. But he wasn’t the precious cargo in the car. However, he reached over and grabbed his belt, buckling himself in.
“Th-thank you.”
There was silence as he drove, ensuring they weren’t being followed. Finally, he relaxed, confident they were fine. Hell. It’d probably been his imagination.
He looked over at her again. Shit. She was too quiet and still, except for the occasional shiver that seemed to run through her.
“Baby? You doing okay?” He had the heater on full blast, but he needed to get her out of those wet clothes.
Grabbing his phone, he sent a quick text to Hayes to let him know that he’d found her.
“Why are you calling me b-baby?” she asked.
Had she only just realized that? Or had she heard him, but her brain had too much going on to bother asking him why he was calling her that before.
“Do you not want me to? It’s not very professional.”
Although, to be honest, he couldn’t care less about being professional.
“It . . . we’re f-friends, aren’t we?” There was a note of vulnerability in her voice.
“Of course we are.” Reaching over, he put the back of his hand over her cheek. “You’re freezing. I think there’s a blanket in the back. I’m going to pull over and get it.”
“No, don’t!” Fear filled her voice.
“It’s all right, I made sure no one followed us. I think maybe I imagined seeing someone. A trick of the light. I’m sorry for scaring you.”
She didn’t reply as he pulled into a gas station up ahead. Parking, he turned on the interior lights and started to swear.
“What . . . what is it?” She was hugging herself tight, her clothes damp and clinging to her. Her hair was a wet, tangled mess, and her mascara was running down her cheeks. Her lips were tinged blue and he knew he had no time to waste.
“You’re frozen. Start taking off those clothes,” he commanded.
“H-here?” She looked around.
“Yes. We have to get you out of them.”
“All r-right, but there are b-better ways of g-getting me naked.”
He breathed a small sigh of relief. If she was joking, then things couldn’t be too bad. Although . . . she often used a joke or said something sassy to mask what was really going on in her head. So he reached over and grasped her chin before he got out.
“Everything will be all right.”
“My m-mother thinks she can m-manipulate me into d-doing whatever she wants.”
“Well, she can’t,” he said firmly. “Because you’re an adult and you can tell her no. Hear me?”
“Yes.”
“If you want, I’ll be there with you when you tell her you won’t be doing the show. I also think you should tell her what you think of her.”
She stared up at him and a small smile touched her lips. “Not really part of your job description.”
“Screw that.”
“And you’ll lose your job. My mother doesn’t like when people refuse to do what she wants them to do.”
“It might lose me this job. But I can tell you right now that Kent will back me the whole way.”
“He sounds like a good boss.”
“He’s an even better man and he takes care of people. So don’t worry about my job. Now, start stripping.”