Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

5. Medicated Race

Chapter 5

Medicated Race

I drive for hours, my mind in a waiting state I don’t appreciate until I’m jammed in city traffic, bumper to bumper, waiting for the light to turn green. A punk rock song blasts from my speakers, making my poor windows shake.

I followed the pharmacist’s instructions to take my medicine—only quarter—and there was a buzzing beneath my skin. I’m agitated.

Excited.

My body is tensed like a coiled spring, ready to pounce at any moment. My heart beats faster with each passing second, and I fidget, my hands drumming on the steering wheel. Each nerve in my body is on high alert. It’s as if I’m waiting for a storm to break, a burst of energy to ignite the air and leave me breathless.

Then, a movement catches my attention fifty feet away. A man runs between the stopped cars. I bet he didn’t take his pill.

My mind is abnormally quiet.

I watch the running form with my eyes. He must be soaking wet because it’s pouring rain.

Surprise sends a shock wave from my pelvis to my neck as I land my eyes on the running man.

It’s him.

My mysterious, handsome hitchhiker.

How did he get here?

Zigzagging through a line of immobile cars, he runs into my precious blue Civic and crashes onto the hood with a powerful bang.

An enraged man chases after him, the bark of his threats so intense I can hear it. “I’ll catch you!”

I lift my head, and a sharp gasp catches in my throat.

Our gazes meet as something terrible shrieks inside my mind, piercing my body and exploding in my chest.

I abandoned him, and now he’s cornered.

The rain crashing on the metal resonates in the car. The pursuer doesn’t seem to see him because he’s slouched low on my vehicle.

He’s probably bleeding out, too.

Despair ravages my soul as I lock eyes with him, water running down his face in a silent plea. Agony grips me as his stare penetrates mine, rendering me unable to think clearly.

Could I save him?

But he drops his head, defeated, and slumps onto the hood with a faint squeak, one hand pressed against his side. He’s given up, and it shatters my soul.

Save him, damn it!

I reach for the button to unlock the doors and press it. At the click, Stranger Danger picks up his head and jumps into the back seat, seeking refuge in my sanctuary.

“Lie down in the back,” I tell him.

The other man is roaring. “Show yourself!”

I glance in the rearview mirror. The maniac hits cars at random. But I’ve got my stranger sheltered in the back seat. He’s mine now, the pale, sexy one, breathing hard, nearly dead because he’s losing blood.

Shit.

The traffic light turns green, and I drive away from the madman who wants my hitchhiker’s skin.

I must take him to the emergency room. Somehow, he knows this.

He groans in pain. “Don’t take me to the hospital, please.”

“Okay.”

Go to the police, Marianne, I tell myself . Call Arietta. She always knows what to do.

Do something rational!

No. I park in an alley next to a thrift store. I turn off the engine. Completely irrational.

“I’ll go get you dry clothes. Don’t steal my car.”

“I’m not in any state to steal something.”

True. Running and opened wounds rarely go well together.

The store I entered is old, but I found what I needed: a T-shirt, sweatpants, jeans, socks, underwear, and a fleece sweater. He can take my spare toothbrush. I must return to the car, but my face feels flexed and strange.

Oh, shit. I’m having fun.

A text message from Arietta comes through, and my muscles tense, making me snap back to the real world. It’s a photo of her and Donovan hiking, with a stunning landscape in the background. The time stamp shows it was taken early morning.

Get up and conquer the world, sugar tits. No one will do it for you. Have a great vacation!

Shit. She’s right.

As I return to my car, a painful golden gaze greets me. The second I pull out of the alley, tires screech in the distance, and a silver SUV approaches and closes in on us at great speed.

Stranger Danger turns his head when he sees my wide eyes. “Drive!” he yells with desperation.

And just like that, I’m thrown into a heart-pumping car-chase scene.

My hands grip the steering wheel with an iron resolve.

The engine roars as I speed through the city streets, determined not to be caught by my pursuers.

I’m not on the menu tonight!

My mind races, searching for an escape route. The city’s unfamiliar streets blur past me as I navigate through the labyrinth of alleys and side roads.

“Wow…” the wounded stranger says in the back.

I burst into a weird cackle. “Glad you’re enjoying the ride! Buckle up; it might be a rocky road.” Mm. Ice cream.

“Just try not to kill us both,” he replies, with amusement and genuine concern.

Each turn is calculated, and each maneuver is executed with precision. I can’t afford a single mistake. It’s easier than the go-karts!

And I love it.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I glimpse the pursuer’s SUV closing in. Their dark, tinted windows hide their identities, but their malevolent presence creeps like a shadow up my spine. A sentiment I can’t recognize fuels my every move, pushing me to the limits of speed and agility.

“Who’re they? Why’re they chasing you?” I shout, teeth clenched as I drift a tight turn.

“Not now! Just fucking drive!” he snaps, tension radiating from him like heat.

The answer should scare me, but instead, it ignites something within. A reckless defiance, maybe. I punch the gas harder. The SUV fades in the distance.

Where’s the police now?

As I navigate through the streets, the city becomes a haze. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, but the danger is very real.

“Just one more crazy move, and I’ll lose them,” I declare, pulse thudding hard in my throat as adrenaline spikes through my system.

I need to shake them off for good. Ahead lies a narrow alleyway, barely wide enough to fit my car. Shit . My fingers grip the wheel tighter. The alley is empty. I slam the gas on an impulse, my heart drumming as I squeeze through the tight space. The pursuers hesitate, thrown off by the daring move. I bet their SUV is too large to come in here.

I cackle, my breath hitching with the rush as I put distance between us and the furious men. The sharp sting of sweat trails down my spine, but relief crashes through me.

“Ha! Suck on that, you oversized tin cans!” I yell, voice ragged, throat dry from the wild tension that’s been gripping me.

It’s been ages since I’ve felt truly alive. I rush with abandon, the music blasting. Nothing can touch me at this moment of pure euphoria.

As the sky turns shades of pink and orange, I finally reach the outskirts. The energy from the chase has left me breathless yet exhilarated. With every turn, the weight of my life lifted off my shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of freedom. I bite back the “whoop!” threatening to escape my mouth.

I didn’t even know I could drive like that. I slide the sun visor’s mirror to look at myself and laugh. My cheeks are a deep pink, my eyes have an electric gleam, and my lips are stretched into the most wicked smile I’ve ever seen on myself.

“That was wild,” I whisper to myself.

Stranger Danger shakes his head with amusement and worry. “You drive like a maniac.”

“Maniac but living!” I reply, a wild grin on my face.

But the adrenaline surge recedes, leaving my heart rate back to normal and my heart empty. A quick look at the rearview mirror shows me an empty road.

Phew.

Stranger Danger has changed his clothing, but he remains lying across the back seat. I didn’t even see him change his underwear, and that’s a disappointment. A car chase will do that to you.

I press the phone button again, my fingers trembling.

“Hey, chickadee, is everything okay? Nina and I are getting worried about you,” Uncle Corey says.

Trying to sound calm and in control, I say, “I have a flat tire, but I’ll head to the garage tomorrow morning.”

Corey sighs. “Are you sure everything’s all right? You sound stressed.”

“Yes, Corey. Everything’s under control.”

A loud honk from a passing car startled me, and I let out a small yelp.

Corey hears it, too, and snorts. “Okay, just keep us updated. You might want to take Taylor Street instead of Bayview to get to the house. There’s some construction going on there.”

“Oh, what kind of construction?”

“It’s just a sewer pipe that burst three houses down.” My uncle chuckles.

“Got it. All right, talk to you later.”

Corey’s voice softens as he speaks. “Take care, Marianne.”

“Yeah.”

I know what to do. No more foolishness. I’ll take the wounded hitchhiker to the hospital as a sensible person would. But I pull up to a rundown motel and mutter a curse because of the mess I’ve gotten myself into. Again.

Stop denying it, girl! You want him with you.

The clock reads 7:02 p.m. A good night’s sleep, and I’ll drop him off in the morning.

The motel clerk winks at me as I approach the front desk. “Room for one?”

I frown, not amused by his flirtation. “Room for two.”

He taps away at the keyboard. “Room twenty-six faces the river.”

I nod, take the keycard he pushes in front of me, and walk away, but I stop when a thought occurs. “Can you have food delivered to the room?”

“Of course,” he replies, flashing another charming smile. “Pizza?”

I shake my head, not in the mood for greasy fast food.

“There’s a good Mediterranean restaurant nearby,” he suggests. “They deliver.”

It’s perfect. I order food and drag my body into the car, not an ounce of attention to my passenger.

I park the car out of sight, driven by an unknown frenzy coursing through my veins. It’s exhilarating to finally follow my instincts without restriction. I feel like a stormy sea, alive and electrified by the power of my actions. It’s unbelievable.

And I love it.

I enter the motel room and toss my bag on a wooden dresser with brass pulls. The drawers hold towels and blankets. Two sturdy double beds stand against the left wall, dressed in paisley.

That’ll do just fine.

I settle the wounded man in the bed closest to the door. A flickering bedside lamp casts yellow shadows across beige walls as he wiggles up to rest his head on a pillow.

“You rest. I’ll keep guard,” I say. We’ll talk later.

Outside, the rain continues its gentle dance, the occasional droplet sliding down the windowpane in a peaceful rhythm. He probably has more blood on his hands than a cardiac surgeon. If he kills me, I swear to haunt him and tickle his balls in his sleep.

This is what I wanted, right? To see him again.

I cover him with a blanket, and he smiles in his sleep. I feel foolish for taking him back, but also proud he won’t die under my care.

I’ll wait for him to sleep a bit and suture his cut.

He lets out a faint “thank you” as my thoughts vanish from my brain. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, the chemicals in my body are in full control.

I change, get my manga book, and settle into a plush chair by the window. I love rain. Rain on a river is even better. The gentle patter against the window reminds me that, for now, we’re safe and dry.

An hour passes, and Stranger Danger stirs. He turns to me and asks, “What’s your name?”

“Marianne,” I reply on automat.

I feel his intense stare penetrate my back as he sighs. I don’t care. I’m empty. “You’re different from yesterday.”

“I took a pill for my severe anxiety.”

“You’re high?” Only words falling flat in my ears.

My kingdom for a coffee. Or coffee ice cream. Anything with coffee.

“Marianne?” His voice caresses my ears like a gentle breeze, stirring up a swirl of emotions deep within me. I wrap myself in it, holding on to it, wishing this could be something it will never be, leaving nothing but a bittersweet aftertaste. “You bailed on me.”

Message ignored.

I have a bit of a crush on this supposedly dangerous, sexy man. He’s just like Seito. Except for the red hair and purple eyes. Can he whisk me away to another galaxy?

I should take care of his wound. “Why were you being chased?”

He shifts, his features twitching in discomfort. “A deal gone wrong.”

“What kind of deal?”

He pauses, his stare hardening into a brooding silence. “Transportation.”

I snort. “Did you try the gun to the head trick?”

Oh, my god… Now is not the time for sarcasm.

He chuckles, wincing. “Well, yes. But he wasn’t being reasonable, so I shot him.” The corner of his mouth lifts in an evil smirk.

As if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Are they still looking for you?”

“No, we’re out of their turf.” I know by the tone I won’t have any more details.

I won’t ask who’s “they.”

There’s an edge to his voice now as he studies me. “Who were you speaking with on the phone earlier?”

I like that when it rains, everything turns into various shades of blue. “My uncle.”

He leans on his side, his eyes narrowing. “You talked to him like he was more than that.”

“When my mother disappeared, my father left me with my uncle Corey and his wife Nina.” The lamppost outside bleeds into pools of orange, highlighting the drops as they race each other down the pane. “I stayed with them for five years.”

We’re silent for a few moments. I can’t identify if the pills are responsible for my untied tongue or if it’s because I’m weirdly comfortable with him.

“Your father... did he come back?” His voice is low and hoarse from the pain.

I scoff, bitterness creeping into my voice. “No, he remarried and moved on without me. Thank you, Marianne, but you no longer fit our perfect life. Bye…” I say as I wave goodbye to the raindrops.

His brows furrow. “Where’s your mother?”

I sigh and look down at my manga book, where Seito just repaired his ship. “I don’t know. She left when I was eleven, and I haven’t seen her since.”

“Who’s Eric?”

My heart skips a few beats, and I get a hiccup of nausea. “He’s my ex.” I can’t even say “boyfriend” because I might throw up.

Wait a minute. How does he know?

He tips his chin toward my keys dangling from my bag. “I saw the inscription on your keychain.”

The keychain Eric gave me for our second anniversary. A keychain. Pathetic. No flowers, no restaurant. A dull keychain with his name engraved on it. Donovan had Arietta’s name tattooed on his chest for their second anniversary. I can’t believe I thought he was the man of my dreams. Eric had no respect for me.

“You don’t want to have sex? It doesn’t matter. Take a pill, princess.” Relax. Not “I’m going to give you a massage; we’re going to cuddle,” no. “Take a pill.” The answer to everything. “You’re angry; take a pill. You’re sad; take a pill. You’re stressed; take a pill.”

“Shut that fucking mouth before people start noticing you’re crazy. Just take a pill, it’ll be better.”

Knock, knock.

It’s the food!

After taking the bag from the delivery guy and settling the payment, I close the door. I unpack the food, handing the dish to my now-known stranger.

Should I ask him if he’s Hiroshi Kwunaru the Seventh?

Hiroshi doesn’t suit him.

“I’m going to give you a name,” I say and tilt my head to the side to assess his features. I narrow my eyes and search the confines of my brain. “Dean?”

He frowns. “You don’t want to know my real name?”

“We both know that would be dangerous.”

A tiny smirk appears on his lips, but his frown deepens. “I can’t deny that.”

“What about Bruce?” I ask, totally ignoring that he confirmed his dangerousness. But the name makes him scrunch his nose. “Kai.” I grin. “ Thy shall call thou Kai,” I say, making a cross sign with my chicken skewer.

He rolls his tongue in his mouth. “I don’t have a say in the matter?”

“No. I baptize you, Kai Kiken the Eighteenth.”

“Kai Danger?” He smirks, cocking his head.

“Because of your crazy killer eyes.”

He snorts. “You read too much.”

I gasp while my head snaps away from my shoulders. “There’s no such thing as too much reading!”

He chuckles at my evident disgust at his words. The chicken winks at me, and I giggle. I drown it in tzatziki.

“I’d love to be in your head, damn,” Kai says.

“You’d be scared, Kai,” I reply with a sly smile.

“Maybe not.”

I hum, not paying attention to him and his comment. His voice bounces like a distant echo, coming back weaker each time. And I hum louder until a bloodstain on his T-shirt screams at me. Survival instinct on alert, I get on the bed and lift his shirt, grumbling with dissatisfaction. The sticky stitches have fallen out.

He laughs, his melodic voice echoing through the room.

Whoa!

His abs wave in a mesmerizing motion. As my fingertips trail over his warm and smooth skin, I run over the defined ridges and valleys of muscle, each one like a brick in a wall.

Damn, he’s so firm.

But there’s no excessive bulk, just pure strength and efficiency marbled by the imperfections of criminal life.

The scent of exertion and burned wood lingers in the air around him. It’s oddly calming.

Goosebumps rise on his arms as I meet Kai’s eyes, and he stares back with a strange glint. I resist the urge to lick my lips when he reaches out to take a lock of hair and runs it through his fingers.

I don’t understand what’s happening within me.

All I want is to bury myself in his arms and listen to him assure me that everything will be okay from now on. That we’re both safe.

And that feeling is so unsettling to me that I dismiss it. I get off the bed, lost in a haze of utter confusion.

My hand plunges into my bag to seize the brand-new suture kit I bought hours ago. “I’ll stitch you up.” Sitting on the bed, I pull out what I need.

Blood seeps through the bandage on his side, the red contrasting against his caramel skin. I remove it, wincing at the sight of the ripped flesh.

My focus becomes a laser beam, homed in on the wound as my fingers dance over his skin, cleaning and stitching it back together with careful precision. The skin puckers slightly as I pull the thread taut, creating a web of narrow stitches.

Kai lets out soft sighs and grunts as he watches me work.

My tongue darts out, wetting my lips in concentration. I don’t like the heat coming from the bruised flesh around the cut. Once I have successfully sealed the wound, I apply a generous amount of antibiotic cream, hoping it will prevent infections.

When I finish putting on a clean bandage, his hand envelops mine, bringing warmth and security. I crave his touch but push it away. My heart and soul need time to heal before I let anyone in.

Kai stands up, a hand supporting his side, and he wobbles to the bathroom. “I gotta clean up.”

“No shower tonight.” I stand to get my spare toothbrush. “Don’t lock the door,” I say while handing it to him. “Just in case you faint.”

He scoffs, glaring at me, but I experience nothing.

“You’re free to leave whenever you want. I paid for the room,” I tell him, but walk back to my bed.

A deep grunt comes from the bathroom. “I’m not leaving you.”

I hope you’re sincere.

When he returns to bed, I let my mind go blank. I’m not here in a motel with an ultra-dangerous Kwunaru. I’m in my head. Far away from everything that hurt.

I slip under the rough sheets of the other bed and close my eyes, wishing I had the courage to slip in with him instead. Maybe then, I wouldn’t feel so lonely.

“Marianne,” Kai murmurs. “Sleep tight.”

And I hate the spark of hope that blooms in my chest.