Hard Roads Read Online Free PDF Page B

and tossed into a cramped space in what I recognized to be a truck. Doors slamming again, ignition firing and the sudden movement of a car taking off at high speed. The pain in my shoulder had become intolerable, but at least there was air conditioning. My body felt cold when the frigid air hit my skin and my throat and nose opened up so that I could breathe easily. I still felt high, still felt like I was stuck in some thick abyss, just floating in some place where no person could touch me. Within another hour or so, I would learn the feeling was wrong. I could be touched. I had been touched and I would be touched again.
    “I’m too fucking tired to drive anymore, Munch. We’re going to get a motel room.” His voice was rough, the pain he was obviously experiencing seeping out with every syllable he spoke. There was a drunken slur to his words, the individual letters running together as if they were ink on waterlogged paper.
    The truck shook when he pulled off the road and onto what I assumed was a pebble driveway. After parking, he turned to pull a bag out of the area where he had me stowed. I watched him strip off his blood-stained shirt, tossing it aside into the floorboard of the front passenger seat, before pulling on another simple, black t-shirt. When he threw the bag back next to me, he turned. For the first time, and because of the streetlamp that shone in through the truck window, I saw the gold amber of his eyes. They shone in the dim light like jewels and were the color of whiskey. I imagined that they could warm a woman up just as much as the alcohol when this man was in a good mood. I wasn’t attracted to him, but after looking into his eyes, I was curious.
    “I’m gonna go get us a room. I want you to stay quiet and stay still. Don’t try to attract anyone’s attention if they walk by ‘cause you’ll just be signing their death warrant. You get me?”
    “Yeah.” I cleared my throat when I went to talk and it felt like only dust came out. “I get you.”
    He nodded once, turning and groaning when he opened the door and stepped out of the truck. I was surprised he left it running, but I guess with my hands being tied to my feet and all, he wouldn’t have been too concerned about me having the ability to drive away. I wasn’t giving up though, so while he was taking his time finding us a room in what I could only imagine would be some nasty motel along route 80, I looked for any sharp object I could rub myself up against and hopefully cut this rope. The positioning of my body in the tight space, made it almost impossible for me to turn and look around. By the time, I’d shifted to the right to lift my head and view the entire cabin, he’d returned.
    The door swung open and the dim light in the cabin was blocked by his large form. “Okay, woman, we have ourselves a room.” His hand reached beside me when he pulled the bag into the front again. “I’m going to need you to walk like a normal person for me. You’ll have a barrel pointed in the center of your back for the walk, so I don’t want any of the bullshit you played earlier happening again. Fighting on the side of the road is one thing, but it’s something different where people can sit around and watch us. Understand? I’m not fucking playing with you either.”
    Silently, I nodded my head.
    “Good. I’d hate to have to kill you, Munch.” Pulling a blade from the bag, he reached over and cut the cord that tied my arms to my legs. Pain shot over my spine when my body was allowed to lie flat, stretching out after having been forced into a fucking circle for the past few hours. He moved to cut the cord around my ankles, but replaced the knife in his bag before cutting the one around my wrists. I looked up at him and a small smirk curled the corner of his lips.
    “Are your hands cold?”
    My eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his odd question. “Um…no. We’re in fucking Arizona. Nothing is cold.”
    His grin turned into a small