Illicit Captor by Maggie Cole

12

Aidan

Whatever food and water we can take, I toss into the trunk next to our bags. Scarlet runs into the chicken coop, and I pull out a map, staring at the path of how to get up north to the mountains.

Tommy's men are coming south, so we need to pass them while avoiding them. Tynan told me where he heard they were coming from, so I decide to veer west to get there. It'll take a few hours longer, but the less chance we have of running into any of the O'Learys, the better.

I double-check I have my gun and knives in the car where they're easy to access, and Scarlet strolls across the yard, carrying a basket full of eggs.

She's gained some weight, but she still needs to be stronger. I'm ready for this to all be over and I wish I could implement my plan, but until she's healthier, I have to be patient.

She steps in front of me, her face full of worry. "Do we have everything?"

I glance at the basket of brown eggs, teasing, "We're going to have a hard time cooking those in the car."

She tilts her head, squinting from the sun. "Funny."

I reach for her cheek and stroke my thumb over her lips, admitting, "Just trying to make ya smile, lass."

Her mouth curves, but it doesn't erase the worry. She frets, "I don't like that he knows I'm with ya and that he's now chasing us."

"We'll be fine," I assure her and open the door. "Get in, petal."

She obeys.

"Put your seat belt on," I order and shut the door. I go around to my side of the car, slide inside, and turn on the engine. I pull out onto the dirt road, and silence fills the air for several miles.

My senses are on high alert. I keep looking in the rearview mirror, feeling paranoid that someone's following us even though there are no cars anywhere.

I knew it was only a matter of time before Tommy found out I was with her. He probably put two and two together since it doesn't take much to know that when one O'Connor is missing, they're probably involved.

Scarlet blurts out, "Aidan, what do ya have up your sleeve?"

I glance at her. "We're going to the mountains."

"That's not what I meant, and ya know it."

My chest tightens. "Why don't ya be clear, lass?"

"Really?" she hurls, glaring at me.

I'm not going to give Scarlet any leeway. If she has a specific question, she'll have to ask me. So I state, "I'm not a mind reader."

Her face hardens and it reminds me of Alaina's. My brother was right about one thing. She's just as stubborn as her sister. She asks, "What do ya plan on doing to hurt Tommy before ya kill him?"

"Ya don't need to worry about that."

"Stop not answering my questions. This involves me. I have a right to know," she claims.

"Ya have a right to know? Why do ya have a right to know?" I question.

She blinks hard.

I sigh and I grab her hand. "I'm sorry, petal. That didn't come out right. I don't like ya worrying about this stuff."

"Just tell me, Aidan. I want to know."

I don't want to tell her everything. She doesn't need to know. It's not going to affect her. But I need to give her something, so I admit, "A man like Tommy values his ego more than anything else, so I'm going to destroy it."

"How?" she questions.

I turn down another dirt lane and glance at the GPS to ensure I'm going west, even though it'd be a lot faster to just keep going north. I confess, "By making it clear he has nothing he thinks he ever did, now or in the past."

"How?" Scarlet's eyes slowly turn into a glare. The hairs on my neck rise, and she fumes, "By using me?"

My stomach tightens. I claim, "I'm not using ya, petal."

"What would ya call it?"

"This is why we shouldn't get into this," I declare.

"Aidan, you're scaring me."

"Ya don't need to be scared," I reassure her.

"Tommy isn't someone that ya fuck around with. Ya know this. Why do I have to remind ya about this fact?"

Anger fills me. I'm not scared of Tommy. I assert, "Why don't ya leave Tommy to me?"

Her lips quiver. She lifts her chin and continues to pin her challenging stare on me. "Ya don't know who you're messing with, Aidan." She blinks hard.

"Do ya think I'm scared of him?" I ask.

She points at me. "You're being arrogant. It's going to be your downfall."

I snort. "No, I'm not. And I'm not going to tell ya again. This is nothing for ya to worry about. Change the subject. This matter is closed."

I focus on the road even though I can feel her glaring at me with too many rageful emotions. I hate every moment of it. And I don't want her to feel like this toward me.

Over the short time we've been together, if anything's clear, it's that I have deep feelings for her. I'd do anything to protect her, including going up against Tommy. But I won't back down from what I set out to do. When my mind's on something, I follow through. And Tommy's not going to be any exception.

I pick up her hand and kiss the back of it. "Would ya rather be spanked or whipped, petal?"

She continues looking out the window. I kiss her hand again, then lean close to her ear. "I asked if you'd rather be spanked or whipped? Are ya not going to play your game? It's a long ride to sit here pissed at me."

She finally caves, letting out a frustrated breath. She turns in her seat, asking, "What are ya whipping me with? Your pants? Your belt?"

"What about a flogger?" I ask.

She arches her eyebrow. "I don't know. I've never been whipped by one."

"But ya like to be spanked," I say, winking at her.

Her lips twitch, and that's what I want to see.

"Your turn. Ask me a question," I tell her.

She props the side of her knee on the seat and asks, "Okay, would ya rather lose a leg or an arm?"

"Ouch. You're always into bodily harm, aren't ya?"

"Ya just asked me if I wanted to be spanked or whipped," she points out.

"Totally different from losing a limb," I declare.

She laughs. "Well, sorry, but ya have to choose. Are ya losing your leg or an arm?"

I think about it. "Probably an arm."

"Why?" she questions.

I shrug. "I can still walk and run. They have those fake arms. I'm pretty sure I could learn to use that. They're pretty far advanced as far as I know."

Amusement lights up her face. "Have ya studied this? Worried that you're going to lose a limb?"

I chuckle. "No, I can't say I have, but I'm sure an arm would suit me better. So if I had to choose, I'd prefer to keep both my legs."

"Okay, fair enough," she says.

The road turns from gravel to pavement. There's still no one around, and it's all farmland. I accelerate and think about my next question. Then I ask, "Would ya rather have sex on a train or a plane?"

A little flush heats her cheeks, and she smirks. "I think a train."

"Yea? Why is that?" I question.

Her flush grows more intense. "A train's always vibrating, right?"

"Ah, so ya like vibrators. Noted," I tease.

She scoffs. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Toys are one thing I haven't gotten to use with Scarlet since we've been in the cottage. But I make a mental note to get some as soon as possible. I declare, "When all this is over, we'll go shopping."

"Shopping?"

I nod. "Aye. Get ya a vibrator. Then come home, sit ya up on the counter, let ya spread your legs, and put a show on for me."

She softly laughs and puts her hand over her face. "You're so dirty."

"I think ya love me dirty."

She stares at me, the green in her eyes shining brighter.

"So, you're not into plane sex, huh?"

"I didn't say that," she claims.

"But definitely a train."

She shrugs. "I mean, if I had to choose, I'm assuming."

"Because you've never done it on either?"

Her face heats hotter. She puts her hand over it and peeks through her fingers, groaning.

"No need to be embarrassed."

"Have ya?" she asks.

I admit, "Aye. I'm a mile-high club member."

She rolls her eyes. "Of course ya are."

I lean closer and wiggle my eyebrows. "But I saved the train for ya."

"Is that so?"

"Definitely. We'll have to book some tickets as soon as possible," I add.

She bites her lip and shakes her head.

A few minutes pass, and she snaps her fingers, claiming, "I know the next question."

"What's that?"

"Would ya rather choose five years in prison or ten years in a coma?"

It doesn't take me long to answer, "Five years in prison."

"Really?" she says in surprise.

"Yea, if I'm in a coma, I don't know what's happening."

Her smile falls. She mutters, "It's got to be better than prison." She turns and looks out the window, and tension fills the air.

I lower my voice. "Hey, did I say something wrong?"

She shakes her head and quietly mutters, "No."

"What's wrong, then?" I ask.

She takes a couple of deep breaths and turns to me. "I was in Tommy's prison. I'd rather be in a coma."

All the hatred I feel for that piece of shit comes back, curling in my gut. I sigh. "He's going to pay, petal."

"I'd rather ya just kill him, though, instead of whatever this plan is that ya have. I don't have a good feeling about it, Aidan."

I run my fingers through her hair and glide my thumb over her temple, assuring, "I told ya not to worry about this."

"But I am."

"But ya don't need to," I insist.

A car approaches us, and I take my hand off her, putting both on the steering wheel and telling her, "Put your glasses and hat on."

She obeys.

"From now on, ya got to keep them on at all times, okay?"

"You're being a bit paranoid, I think."

"No, I'm not. It stays on," I insist.

"Fine," she groans.

I drive another mile, and more cars come into view. Some are behind me, and some come toward us. It all makes me more anxious.

"Ya need to ask me a question, Aidan," she asserts.

I concentrate on the road, pondering momentarily, then ask, "Would ya rather eat a sheep's testicles or a cow's balls?"

"Ooh, that's disgusting," she cries out.

I chuckle. "Hey, you're the one with the crazy questions. Which one's it going to be, princess?"

"Oh, now I'm a princess?"

I laugh. "Yep, you're whatever I want ya to be."

"Is that so?"

"Definitely. Now, are ya eating sheep testicles or cow balls?"

Her face turns slightly green, and she wrinkles her nose. "Er, I guess cow's balls."

"Why is that?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know. We eat red meat, and I don't think I've ever eaten sheep."

"Sheep's red meat," I say, then pause, questioning, "Is it red meat?"

"Ummm…yea, I think it is," she says.

I lean my head closer. "Why don't we know if a sheep is red meat? Why am I questioning this? It's red meat, right?"

She scrunches her face, laughing. "I don't know, Aidan. I've not thought about it because who actually eats sheep?"

"A baby sheep is a lamb, and we eat those. That's red meat."

"Duh! You're right. Why don't I think of a lamb as a sheep?" she questions.

Both of us look at each other, then start laughing. She declares, "We've been in the cottage too long!"

I add, "We sound super unintelligent right now."

"Don't ever tell anyone about this conversation!" She laughs.

"Nope! My lips are sealed!" I agree.

She looks out the window and then turns back toward me. "Okay, next question. Would ya rather shag a man ya can't see or hear, or would ya rather shag a man ya can't see or smell?"

"I'm not shagging any man," I claim.

She smiles. "Okay, fine. Would ya rather shag a woman that ya can't see her face or hear her speak, or would ya rather shag a woman that ya can't see her face or smell her?"

"Well, what's she smell like?" I question.

"Whatever ya want her to smell like," Scarlet says.

"And what's her voice like? Is it shrieky? I really can't stand a shrieky voice," I admit.

Scarlet bursts out laughing. "No, it's not shrieky. Again, her voice is beautiful. She smells delicious. So would ya rather shag a faceless woman without being able to hear or smell her?"

I groan and scrub my face. "I don't think I can answer this question."

"Ya have to," she states.

"Yea, but let's take ya, for instance," I tell her.

"What do ya mean?" she questions.

"Well, I love to hear how ya sound when I'm shagging ya. And I certainly love how ya smell, especially that pussy of yours."

Her face turns maroon. She slaps my bicep. "Aidan."

I shrug. "Just telling the truth, lass. I can't answer that question."

"Ya just lost a point," she claims.

"I thought there weren't any points and nobody wins or loses this game." I remind her of what she said the first time we ever played it.

"Well, starting now, there are points," she announces.

"Wow, that's convenient for ya."

She shrugs. "Oh, well, if you're not going to answer questions, then I'm going to have to make some rules up."

I tease, "You're merciless. Ask me another question."

She thinks, then asks, "Would ya rather be branded with my initials, or would ya rather have a knife cut my initials into ya?"

"Ooh, we're getting serious now if I'm going to be wearing your initials. Is that something ya want from me?" I question, but I'd do it for her if she wants.

She arches her eyebrows. "I didn't say that. It's just a what-if question."

"Really? Are ya sure ya don't have some deep-down desire for me to carry your initials? Maybe your full name on me. Like, where do ya want it? Just don't tell me to put it on my dick. That's probably the only place I won't put it."

"So you'd put it on your balls?" she questions.

"No, not there either. Balls and dick go together."

"But you'd brand my name on your ass?" she asks.

I think about it. "Aye. If ya really felt a deep need for me to do that, then I'd take one for the team."

"Really? Ya would?" she says in shock.

"What can I say? I'll do a lot to please ya, lass," I tease and wink.

She laughs. "Okay, well, what's it going to be? Are ya branding my initials on ya? Or am I taking a knife and cutting them into ya?"

"That's easy. Branding."

"Why was that easy?"

I admit, "Branding's hot. It's got fire attached to it. Ya know how I am with fire."

Her face turns serious. She nods and puts her hand on my thigh. "I guess I should have known the answer before I asked ya, huh?"

I put my hand over hers. I don't know how, but she accepts my crazy obsession with fire. Several times I'd needed to go out to the pit. She always came out with me. Even when I told her to go inside, she always stayed there. Sometimes she stepped back and just watched. It was an odd comfort that soothed me, knowing she was there. I'm still trying to figure out why.

She orders, "Okay, ask me a question."

I turn onto a major motorway, getting slightly nervous but knowing we have do it. I ask, "Would ya rather eat human ribs or human rump roast?"

"So now I have to be a cannibal?" she blurts out, wrinkling her nose.

"Aye. So what's it going to be, lass? Will ya gnaw on some ribs or dig into a rump roast?"

She shakes her head. "Both sound equally gross."

"But ya got to pick. It's for dinner."

Her face scrunches in disgust. She puts her hand over her stomach. "The thought of that is just...ugh."

I chuckle. "Pick."

She thinks about it briefly and says, "Fine, I'll take the rump roast."

"Ah, ya like all things ass, don't ya?"

She tilts her head and gives me a little smirk. "Funny. But let me ask ya, Aidan, would ya rather die from drowning or burning? And I feel like I already know the answer, but go ahead and answer it."

"Fire."

"Yea, already knew that."

I question, "How about ya?"

She doesn't hesitate. "I'd rather drown via suffocation."

Her answer shocks me. I'm so in tune with fire that I can't even consider that somebody would want to die any other way. I ask, "Why?"

She takes a minute and answers, "I feel like suffocation would be quicker. Fire would probably hurt way more. I think you'd be dead within a matter of minutes via drowning. Plus, my mum died from a fire." She turns quiet.

My chest tightens. I pick up her hand and kiss it. "Ya okay?"

"Mm-hm."

I catch something in the mirror. Goose bumps pop out on my skin. I put my hand on her shoulder, ordering, "Scoot down a little bit."

She frets, "Why? What's wrong?"

"Just scoot down, petal."

She obeys.

I switch lanes, and a red vehicle follows. My heart pumps faster. I drive the normal speed for a few minutes, then get out of the lane and pass several cars, going faster than anybody should on this road.

The car doesn't follow. I breathe a sigh of relief. "I think we're okay."

"Ya thought someone was following us?"

"Aye, but I think we're fine." I glance back in the mirror again. The red car is still several behind mine, not making any moves to pass.

To be safe, I make another aggressive move, passing another dozen cars until I can't see the red vehicle.

Scarlet questions, "Are ya sure they're not following us?"

"No, they aren't," I declare. But for the rest of the way, I stay more vigilant, knowing I could be wrong at any moment.