Stranger Danger (6 page)

“Ready or not, here I come,” he said and shifted
position.
 
He thrust into her, an arrow
to its target, and filled her to capacity.
 
He penetrated to the depths of her body, his erect penis bringing waves
of pleasure powerful enough to bring tears to her eyes.
 

She moaned, unable to help herself.
 
She ached to scream, to shriek her delight
but held back, conscious of the thin apartment walls surrounding them. Instead,
she scissored her legs behind his back and drove him deeper inside.
 
Sara used her hands to caress his back, then
to use her short but sharp nails to rake against his skin.

He bucked against her and found his rhythm.
 
They moved together, in tandem with increasing
friction and warmth.
 
She worked to match
his strokes and tightened her pussy to caress his dick within.
 
Santiago pumped harder and she clutched him
as the tension built higher.
 
When the
pleasure reached an almost unbearable level and her breath caught short, Sara
sensed the fine tremor in his body.
 
Like
an earthquake, it increased until it shook them both hard enough to rattle
their teeth.
 
“Now,” he grunted in her
ear. “Come with me,
la muñequita
,
ride me all the way.”

Sara yielded, giving up any lingering
resistance.
 
Their orgasms hit with the
brutal force of high tide and drowned her in their wake.
 
Every sense radiated with the incredible rush
of pleasure and she cried out, wordless and loud, as the ecstasy consumed
her.
 
She’d never come in such a wild
heat, she thought, not back when they were still teenagers and never with
Erik.
 
At the peak, she bit his lip as he
kissed her, and even after her shudders stopped, her body remained charged with
crazy energy.
 
I ought to glow like a neon light after that.

Santiago pulled out and she want to cry with the
loss of their physical connection.
 
He
rolled onto his back and pulled her into the circle of his left arm.
 
She pillowed her head against his shoulder,
her cunt throbbing with heat and a few aftershocks.
 
Her hand stretched out across his chest and
he lifted his right hand to hold it. “
Te
amo
,” he whispered.

She stilled.
 
They
were two small words, but they touched her soul and filled her heart to beyond
capacity.
 
Sara focused on his face,
gazed into his deep, dark eyes, twin pools of emotion.
 
She met his intent look and held it.
 
Revelation struck with almost as much force
as their shared orgasm.
 
He loved
her.
 
He always had, had never stopped,
and maybe always would.
 
And the
knowledge leeched away years of bitter longing, tempered the pain, and kindled
a pure kind of happiness she hadn’t known in a very long time.

“I love you, too,” she said.
 
She touched the back of her curled fingers
against his cheek. “I always did, Santiago.”

He cradled her against his chest, so close she could
hear his heartbeat and sense the vibration.
 
Their breath came and went in the same rhythm.
 
Sara savored the moment, so tender and
delicious.
 
He lifted his head and bent
his mouth down to kiss hers again, this time with a sweet gentleness, a slow
burn that moved through her body like honey.
 
She enjoyed it as much as she needed it, like water in a drought-parched
desert.
 
The outside world ceased to be
as they shared one small space, an oasis from everything else.
 
It no longer mattered why he’d come or if
they were in Arkansas or East LA, in the Ozarks or beside the Pacific.
 
Contentment cocooned them and wove around
them with the closest thing to fairy tale magic she had ever experienced.

Sara basked in it until a sharp crack filtered
through her haze of peace.
 
The window to
the right of the bed shattered inward with a clatter of glass.
 
Before she could shriek, Santiago grabbed her
and rolled them both off the bed onto the floor.
 
Another round exploded and he covered her
with his body. “Santiago, what the hell is happening?”

A minute ago, his face had been slack, relaxed, and
happy.
 
Now he wore a tense mask,
features taut.
“
Chingao
!
We have to get out of here.
 
Is there a
way?”

Her complacency evaporated in a rush of fear.
 
Outside, a raised babble of voices was
audible.
 
Doors opened and slammed shut,
feet hurried down the hallway and stairs.
 
Sara couldn’t manage rational thought as she clung to him, naked and
shaking. He held her tight against his right side, his left angled away from
her.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Who is it? Are they after you?”

“
Si
,” he
said without hesitation. “And since they’re here, they’re after you, too.”

A chorus of sirens echoed in the distance, the wail
drawing nearer. “Someone called the police,” she said. “Won’t it be okay when
they arrive?”

Santiago’s eyes meet hers and he shook his head.
“
Mierda
.
No, it won’t. Tell me where there’s another way out of the building.”

Sara tried to unscramble her
disjointed thoughts. “Uh, there’s a rear exit at the foot of the back
stairs.
 
They’re at the other end of the
hallway and a flight down.”

“Get dressed, grab some stuff,”
he said in a low growl. “Hurry, we’ve got about two minutes. Bring anything you
need.”

“You’re scaring the hell out of
me,” she said as she reached into the dresser for clothing. “Where are we
going?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll
figure it out on the way. Let’s go.”

She moved in a daze and hadn’t
quite processed the swift turn of events.
 
Sara pulled on jeans, put on a shirt, added shoes and socks.
 
She grabbed a canvas carry all bag and tossed
garments into it with abandon.
 
Then she
picked up her cell phone charger, her phone, her pistol, some toiletries, and a
few other things. Santiago stood at the living room window, fully dressed and
wearing a faded denim jacket despite the heat. His position was posed so he
could peer through the drapes without opening them.
 
Sara joined him.

Two police cruisers sat in front
of the building, lights revolving.
 
A
crowd gathered around it, and as she watched, a pair of officers made their way
toward the building. “We go now,” Santiago said.
 
He snatched his duffel and took her
hand.
 
With his Glock in the other, he
led her out into the hallway.
 
Together
they moved with speed toward the rear stairs and started their descent just as
the front door opened.
 
She heard the
brisk steps of the LEOS as they came up and the sharp raps as they knocked on
her door.
 
One of them barked an order to
open up. She paused, but Santiago jerked her forward.
 
“
Andale
,”
he hissed.

They emerged into the late
evening sunshine and ran across the grass toward the tree line.
 
He dashed at a speed faster than she could
easily keep up, and by the time they reached the fence bordering the trees, she
gasped for breath.
 
If we have to climb the fence, I’m done
.
 

Santiago pushed a section and it
opened.
 
As they passed through, she
realized it’d been cut earlier and that he must’ve done it, in case he needed
an escape route.
 
He slowed once they
walked ten feet of a narrow path through the small wooded area. He stopped,
cocking his head to listen. “So far, so good,” he said. “It’s not much
further.”

Sara glanced around.
 
The apartment complex sat on the south
eastern edge of town.
 
Although it
fronted a busy thoroughfare, it backed up against an old property that had once
been a farm.
 
Fields grown up with weeds
and straggling trees included the remains of a one-time apple orchard.
 
For the moment, they were out of the view of
anyone from the apartments, although she could still hear the squawk of the
police band radio.
 
“Where are we
headed?”

“I’ve got a vehicle stashed over
here,” he said and struck out with her in tow through waist high weeds.
 
An old battered Ford pickup rested beneath
the branches of a walnut tree, the dirty brown color blending with the
surroundings well enough to be almost invisible. “Come on, let’s get out of
here.”

“Is it yours?” Somehow she
doubted it.

“I borrowed it,” he said and
grinned.
 
Borrowed meant boosted, stolen,
taken without permission.
 
“For a cop,
you’re sloppy about the finer points of law,” she said, amused despite their
obvious dire straits. “Are you still one?”

He shrugged. “I am and I’m
not.
 
It’s a long story.”

Sara opened her mouth to
protest.
 
“Hey, you have to tell me
what’s going on now,” she said. “My bedroom window was shot out and I’m on the
run.”

“
Si
, Sara,” he said. “You’re right. I do and I will – once we’re
someplace safe.
 
Get in the truck.”

Lacking any other options, she
obeyed.
 
The cab smelled musty and stale,
but it provided momentary safety.
 
Sara
scooted across the seat next to Santiago as he donned a Razorbacks ball cap and
turned the key.
 
He drove with slow
precision although dusk brought shadows and by the time they bumped onto a
paved street, it was almost dark.
 
“I
don’t suppose you know anyplace we could go to hole up for a few days,” he
said. “It needs to be off the beaten path and somewhere remote, a place most
people don’t know exists.”

She hesitated as he added, “If
you don’t, it’s cool.
 
I’ll find a budget
motel or we’ll head for Tulsa or Little Rock.”

There was a place, though,
although she seldom visited it.
 
It had
belonged to Erik and his brother Eli.
 
Erik had used it as an art studio and getaway, Eli as a hunting
shack.
 
Eli died the year before Erik,
and it became Sara’s by default.
 
“I’ve
got a place not far from here in Missouri,” she said. “It’s way out in the
middle of nowhere. It’s basic, but it might work.”

He cut his eyes from the road to
her. “How many people know you own it or where it’s at?”

“Very few,” she said. “The girls
at my shop don’t know and outside of Erik’s mom, who lives in Florida now, I
can’t think of anyone who would remember.”

“How long since you’ve been
there?”

Sara thought. “Last year.
 
I went in the fall because it’s in the woods
and pretty when the autumn colors are out.”

Santiago turned his head to brush
a swift kiss across her mouth. “Tell me how to get there, the least traveled
way you know and tell me where I can get a few groceries before we head out
into the sticks.”

* * * *

They stopped at the first
supermarket they passed. Santiago sent her to shop with a mental list of basics
while he remained in the truck. Sara glanced back and noticed he slumped over
the wheel, head down. She wondered why but lacked the luxury to figure it out
as she rushed through the store, hoping she wouldn’t see anyone she knew. At
his insistence, she bought a foam ice chest for the few perishables. At the late
hour, however, there weren’t many customers and she bought the necessities and
a little more in short order.
 

“Which road do I take?”

Sara told him.

Five minutes later, they headed
west out of Bentonville through the upscale bedroom communities and into the
countryside.
 
A few miles out, after
passing through the small community of Centerton, the road wound and twisted
through the hills.
 
Neither had spoken much
since leaving the supermarket lot. Santiago peered through the darkness at the
winding road, finally speaking up. “Are you sure this is the way?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “We turn
north on 59 once we get to Decatur but trust me, we’ll get there.
 
How much danger are we in?”