Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Ralph looked at Drake, probably sizing him up, then he barked a laugh. “No way that little girl has that much power in her. She’s a bumbling little clown.”
Clenching his fists to keep from pounding the living shit out of Ralph, Drake advanced on Ralph. “You keep thinking that and you’ll let the whole damned state in on this little haven. Do you think the others will let you live if you take that away from us?”
Ralph stood toe to toe with Drake. Just like that stupid man not to realize the trouble he could get them all into. “You let me worry about that. Hand her over.”
“The testosterone is getting a bit heavy, guys.”
Thank God Hazel was dressed -- in his shirt and sweats. Drake had a feeling Ralph intended to drag her out of there however he found her.
“I need you to come with me.” Ralph’s sneer made Drake want to vomit. The man definitely had something other than truth, justice, and the American way on his mind.
“I trust my lawyer is allowed to come with me?” Hazel raised an eyebrow at Drake.
“The good sheriff has decided you should be held without bail. I think it’s ridiculous, but I have to make arrangements for a judge to hear my argument.” Turning to Hazel, he winced when he saw the hurt look on her face. “I’m sorry, Hazel. I’m trying to stop this mess, but I can’t be two places at once.”
Her smile was tight. “No problem. Do what you have to do.”
Ralph grabbed her arm as she headed for the door, pulled her hands behind her back and snapped a pair of handcuffs on her. Hazel’s beautiful face filled with shock and mortification.
“Come on, Ralph. Is this really necessary? She’s going quietly.”
“She escaped once. I can’t take the chance she’ll try again.” He winked at Hazel. “Besides, I like the possibilities this situation presents.”
If looks could kill, Ralph would have been six feet under -- or twelve or eighteen. Hazel and Drake both shot him identical looks of anger. The skinny little man laughed.
“Don’t worry, Drake. I’ll take good care of your little witch.”
Knowing Ralph was trying to goad him into doing something stupid, Drake simply crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. “Try not to turn him into a toad, Hazel. Keep in mind how hard that would be to explain.”
Hazel looked from one of them to the other, open-mouthed. “I -- ah,” she cleared her throat, “I’ll try not to.”
* * *
Déjà vu is a horrible thing sometimes. Here she was. In a jail cell. No cot or blanket. Only a brick wall, and Ralph Price stripping her with his eyes from his desk. Unfortunately, that’s where the similarities ended to her previous stay. This time, she was in the basement of the jail and strapped to some medieval-torture-device-looking thing that held her off the ground by her wrists. Her ankles were tied to posts that spread her legs wide apart, and there was a bar at the small of her back that thrust her middle forward and stretched her shoulders to the point of pain. She had been held that way for about half an hour and her wrists ached and burned. There would definitely be bruises.
That wasn’t the worst of it either.
The good sheriff had changed his clothes, and the difference was not an improvement. He was dressed in leather -- though not much of it -- spiked liberally with metal studs. He had leather, calf-high boots, and leather Speedo-looking trunks that hooked to two leather straps crossing over his chest. Oh, and leather gloves and a leather half hood.
The man was very fond of leather.
Too bad it wasn’t fond of him. With his pale, hairless, chicken-skinny legs and knobby knees, and farmer’s tanned arms and pale chest with a mat of hair in the center of his sternum and nowhere else, he looked slightly worse than ridiculous.
What an awful day. Thank God she was still dressed, although she had a horrible feeling that would change soon.
At the moment, Ralph stood a few feet away from her with a flogger -- yeah, it was leather too -- in one hand and slapping against the other. The grin on his face was anticipatory, and the slight bulge in his briefs left no doubt as to what he was anticipating.
“Drake says you’re limited in your sexual knowledge. Let me show you all the deliciously painful things I’m sure he didn’t.”
“How about we don’t and you let me go home?” Hazel was nervous. How far would the little man go? Surely he wouldn’t rape her. He was the sheriff for crying out loud!
“I can’t let you go home. You ran away.” He wagged a finger at her. “That was very, very naughty.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. This was so clichéd, she would have laughed if it had been happening to someone else. “Okay, I promise not to do it again.”