Dorian was in a panic.
Who wouldn’t be?
He was handcuffed and sitting in a car that was racing away from the police.
How in the hell had his life taken such a drastic turn?
“What are you going to do?”
“Get the hell away from them,” Mr. Marcelo said.
“Get your damn seat belt on.”
Turning, he struggled to get the belt away from the seat.
It wasn’t easy since his hands were cuffed.
Pulling the belt around him wasn’t hard.
It was angling his body and trying to snap it into place that was proving difficult.
The car jerked and the belt flew from Dorian’s hands.
“Hang on.”
Dorian grabbed at the seat belt, holding onto it.
There was nothing more he could do.
He just prayed they didn’t hit anything and send him flying through the front windshield.
But they were driving in reverse, so would he go through the front windshield?
The car swerved a bit and then Dorian saw a big red Yukon cut in front of them.
It stopped, partially blocking the pursuing police cars.
“Is that Nathaniel?” Although he had no clue who Nathaniel was.
Mr. Marcelo took a second to look at where Dorian was pointing and then turned back around to see where he was driving.
The man was pretty damn good at driving backward.
Dorian would have crashed by now.
“That’s him.”
The next street they turned down, Mr. Marcelo took the time to get them turned around.
They were driving forward instead of backward now.
Sirens could still be heard, but Dorian didn’t see anyone behind them.
“We need to get out of the city.”
Dorian finally got the seat belt snapped into place.
“Do you have a place to go?”
“I have a few places in mind.” Mr. Marcelo shot to the freeway and raced quickly up the ramp, getting lost among the many commuters.
If the cops found them now, they were in trouble.
There was no way they could have a chase when the traffic was so thick that the speed had decreased to almost a crawl.
“Do you think taking a congested freeway is the smartest thing to do, Mr. Marcelo?” Dorian knew there was a football game tonight at Shelton Field.
The game must have just let out.
The traffic was so thick that Dorian had time to look into the other cars as they crawled by at a snail’s pace.
“Rick.”
Dorian furrowed his brows.
“What?”
“My name is Rick.” Rick switched lanes.
“And yes, it’s the smartest thing to do.” The man sounded a bit irritated as he eased into the lane to their left.
Dorian checked the side mirror, but didn’t see any flashing lights.
They weren’t going as fast as he would like them to go, but it seemed they weren’t being followed.
“Isn’t Nathaniel going to get into trouble for blocking the cops?”
“Nathaniel can take care of himself.” Rick eased past a brown sedan, getting into the farthest left lane.
“You know, I’m not the one to get pissy with. It wasn’t my fault they came after me.” Dorian sat back, his anger simmering at the edges.
Rick had no right getting angry with him.
He didn’t ask to get arrested for a crime he didn’t commit.
And he sure as hell didn’t ask Rick to come for him—although he was glad to be away from the wererats—and dodge the cops.
He didn’t ask for any of this.
They exited the freeway, Rick ignoring him.
Dorian really wasn’t liking the guy right about now.
The man may be helping him stay out of jail, but he didn’t have to be a prick about it.
Rick turned onto a county road.
Dorian played with the cuffs still wrapped around his wrists.
He thought about what Rick had said.
He knew for certain that Rick could get the cuffs off, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the man to try.
The guy had said he would break something.
Was the alpha that strong?
Sometimes it sucked being in the dark.
Dorian wished he knew more about changelings.
It might help steady his nerves.
He kept waiting for Rick to change into whatever creature he was and attack Dorian.
Damn it.
Working around Jayson was starting to make Dorian think like the man.
If he was a nominee, then he should be safe.
Right?
Dorian stole a glance at the driver, his eyes roaming over Rick’s profile.
He still thought
Rick as yummy-looking.
He had a headful of jet-black hair that was cut just below his ears, business style.
The guy had a neatly trimmed goatee that called attention to the man’s sensual lips.
But Dorian noticed the beard looked a little unkempt, as if a small part of Rick was rebelling.
It looked nice, though.
The unshaven look only lent to the man’s granite cheekbones and smoky bedroom eyes.
Would it be so bad being the guy’s mate?
“I was pissed because I’m not used to being questioned about my decisions.”
Guess that answers my question.
The man was going to be impossible.
“And I’m not used to blindly following someone.”
“Get used to it. We’re stuck together until this mess is cleared up.”
“You know,” Dorian said as he turned fully around, “being nice never sent anyone to the hospital.” Not that he was aware of anyway.
Rick grunted, but didn’t answer him.
The man’s jaw clenched, and Dorian knew he would rather face the wererats then be around this arrogant bastard.
I’m not used to being questioned about my decisions, Dorian mocked the man in his head.
What a douche.
They drove for hours before Rick turned off the main road.
Dorian hoped they reached their destination soon.
He was starving.
He hadn’t eaten since lunch, and that was yesterday at work.
His stomach grumbled loudly.
“We’ll be at Derrick’s soon. You can eat there.”
“Who’s Derrick?”
“A friend.”
Well that explained it all.
He had a feeling that he and Rick were going to have it out before things were cleared up.
Hell, they just might have it out before the day was over.
Dorian may be shorter than Rick, and the man may outweigh him by a good fifty pounds, but Dorian wasn’t going to be pushed around.
He wasn’t changeling and didn’t have to bow to Rick’s every damn word.
Rick finally pulled into a long driveway.
It was paved and led to the back of a farmhouse.
“Stay behind me, and let me do all of the talking.”
“I thought he was your friend?”
“He is, but he is an alpha, and there are protocols to follow.”
Great.
Just what Dorian needed right now, politics.
He grabbed for the handle of the door and then got out.
He met Rick on the other side of the car and stayed behind the guy.
He really didn’t know the person who had come out onto the front porch, so listening to Rick didn’t seem like a bad idea— even if he didn’t like it.
“Enrique.”
Who?
“Derrick,” Rick said as he walked forward, extending his hand.
“Long time since I saw you last.”
Derrick chuckled.
“What trouble are you in?”
“You know me too well,” Rick said.
Apparently Dorian didn’t.
The district manager had an air about him that had made Dorian steer clear of the guy, but he had no idea that Rick got into so much trouble.
He was turning out to be such the rebel.
“Come inside.”
Dorian was irritated that Rick didn’t introduce him, but said nothing as he walked behind the man.
This wasn’t his show.
He was the stranger here.
Rick held the screen door for him, allowing Dorian to pass through first.
Standing just inside the door, Dorian waited.
“And who do we have here?” Derrick asked as he turned toward Dorian.
“One of my candidates.”
Derrick just nodded as he showed them into a study.
The room was lavish.
The walls were oak paneled, and one whole side of the room was encased in bookshelves, running from floor-to-ceiling.
The rug was a thick bloodred and forest green with block patterns.
It was definitely a man’s study.
The setup screamed masculinity.
“Now, what brings you here?”
Rick took a seat in a cushioned leather chair, leaving Dorian at the door.
He wanted to smack the man.
Not sure what to do, Dorian took a seat next to Rick.
Damn, this chair was comfortable as hell.
Dorian noticed one of Derrick’s brows raise, but the man didn’t say anything.
“He’s human,” Rick replied to Derrick, as if being human explained any bad manners that Dorian might display.
He was getting really tired of changelings.