A Toast to Starry Nights (42 page)

“That almost hurt, Kaylis.”

“Sorry, wasn't looking to open old
wounds tonight.” In addition to crashing my ride after getting in a fight with
Dmitri, this night was turning out just spiffy. If I could take my angry words
spat at Dmitri away, erase that burst of temper so I never got in that wreck, I
would. A thousand times, I would. Him having coffee with Lorryn definitely
preferable to me being stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no one but a
heavily armed sleazebag as my tour guide to Hell.

Mike leaned back in his seat, quirked
his head to the side and asked softly, “Was I really that bad to you?”

“Yeah. Yeah you were. Besides the rape
you encouraged, the depression resulting and you telling me to kill myself.
Yeah, you
were
that shitty. Then you add injury to insult by hitting me
so I miscarry. You are what happens when a woman has no self-esteem and does
not want to be alone.”

“Ouch. I just wanted to renew our
friendship, Kay bay-bay. I miss you being friendly with me, and since I'm stuck
up here, all alone...”

“I cannot do that, Mike. Not in a
million years. The candle I carried for you burned out a long time ago.” And is
not missed in the slightest. That candle is no match for Dmitri's flood light.

“I wanted you to be the mother of my
children... just not right then.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but that's not an
option. I felt you had a right to know, being that it was half your genetic
material. But you gave up that right, and any rights to my life when you did
what you did. I've moved on from you, Mike. A long time ago.”

“You don't have to marry that guy. I
proposed to you first, loved you first. I want what's mine.”

“I am not yours. And I want to marry
him. I'd bake him cookies while wearing a frilly dress, lacy apron and high
heels, if he asked. I'd even do my hair like June Cleaver. There is nothing
more I want right now than to be his wife.”

I would happily have a huge white
wedding right bloody now if it meant I was safe at home with Dmitri.
Traditional gown and all. With all things considered, the anxiety about
weddings faded in a heartbeat when compared to true danger. A poofy white dress
wouldn't strangle me. Mike... well, I couldn't rule out his hands
not
wrapping around my neck. The man scared me with his unpredictability. “You were
also the first to fuck up royally to the point the woman you claimed to love no
longer wants to be around you. That should be an indication of where you stand
with me.”

“You once believed we were soulmates.”
Soft and plaintive, Mike tried appealing to a side of me that no longer existed
for him. If only he would give up the ghost and drop me off on my doorstep.

“I was young and ignorant. Now I've
grown up and moved on. I suggest you do the same, Mike. Please take me home
now.”

He arose from his seat and sat next to
me. Hairs on my arms and nape stood on end. Hated Michael in such close
proximity to me.

He trailed his fingertips up my arm then
brushed his knuckles against my shoulder in a mega-creepster move.

“Don't touch me, Mike. You do not have
permission to touch me. At all.”

“You liked my touch before.” The bastard
swifty bent down and kissed by my ear.

“Again, young and ignorant. And that
touch of yours you think is golden lost its charm a long time ago.” I jerked my
arm away from him.

Mike's voice lowered and he grabbed a
fistful of my hair and yanked. “I could do whatever I wanted, Kay bay-bay...
and you can't do shit about it.”

I will not be passive like I once was. I
will not tolerate this son of a bitch touching me ever again.

I am not Ona, adrift on the eddies of
life.

I am beyond enraged.

Bright-white heat of a thousand stars
going supernova fueled my rage. How dare he put hands on me? How dare he not
wait for the paramedics when he pulled me from the wreckage? Hell, the track
has its own EMT truck... no excuse whatsoever for him to haul me all the way up
to the middle of nowhere. Never so angry in my life and it was all directed at
the son of a bitch who saved my life only to toy with me. If I failed to act,
he'd rape me. I'm sure of it. Getting all hands on and creepy... needs to end
now.

“You will remove your fucking hands from
my body. You will take me home, right goddamn now. Think I'm scared of you?”
This fucker was no where as scary as the figment of my imagination, Landross.
My voice rose with anger. “You are unwelcome in my life. There! I didn't have
the balls to say it before I walked out on you, but I'll tell you right fucking
now to your repulsive mug that you have no part in my life. End of
conversation. Now take me home.”

Mike looked at me dumbfounded and
bemused. His grip on my hair slackened. “Didn't know you had a backbone in you,
Kay bay-bay. It's kinda hot.” He resumed the touching, trailing his fingers up
my shoulder to my neck. “I'll touch you because I can. Who's going to stop me?
Won't be you, sweetums.”

I hit him in the goddamned nose with the
flat of my palm. Not the smartest thing I've done lately, but it felt good.
Mike cupped his injured nose. Then he backhanded me.

“Bitch!”

“Don't fucking touch me, Michael. Never
again will you touch me. Thank you for getting me out of my car, but that does
not permit you to act like a piece of shit as a reward.” Focus. Maybe Dmitri
has reported me missing and the police are tracking my cell signal. Happy
thoughts. I need my happy thoughts.

Mike grabbed me by the hair again, this
time twisting it so my face looked up into his. Like a snake, his voice
slithered into my ear. “Don't be making demands, Kay. You don't like me when
I'm angry.”

“I don't like you in general.” Fire
burned in my voice.

Mike slapped me then let go of my hair.
I didn't care about him hitting me – I'd rather him get punch happy than sexual
with my person. What truly pissed me off was that he refused to take me home.

I will be no ones prisoner.

Faked socking him in his groin so his
hands would go low to block, then I used my other fist to hit him hard as I
could in the nose again when his defenses lowered. The sight of blood from
where my engagement ring broke skin emboldened me.

I stumbled to my feet and growled, “You
should have taken me to the doctor, because I will make your life a living
hell.” If need be, I'll go for that gun and defend myself by any means
necessary. He will have no power over me.

The words barely died from my lips when
lights outside shined our way to flood the tent. A stern voice called out,
“Come out with your hands up or I will send the dog. You will be bit!”

“Fuck!” Mike muttered. “Fuck this shit.”
Mike stood up, whirled me around so I stood in front of him, his arm tight
around my neck.

My name is Kaylis Prudence Woods, and I am
a human shield.

His voice hissed in my ear, “They shoot
me, they shoot you.”

“What did you do besides kidnap me?”
Worry ate through my being. What, did Mike have an ex or two buried in these
hills?

“Protecting my boss' property. Told
you.”

Mere seconds had passed since Mike and I
were ordered from the tent. Whomever lurked outside, waited with short
patience. “Department of Fish and Game. Out now!”

My heart thundered in my ears and
anxiety the likes of which I never experienced covered me from head to toe. I
did not want to take a dog attack for Mike. Fuck that. I would do what I could
to throw a wrench in the works. Law Enforcement would be on my side, just need
to let them know what was up.

“Help me!” I yelled to the best of my
ability, Mike's arm tightened around my throat as my lips moved, cutting off my
air flow.

He tightened his grip a moment longer
before turning me around and slapped me hard in the face before making me his
shield again. “Fuckin' bitch!”

My elbows flailed to make contact with
his gut, and I stomped as hard as I could on his instep. Mike bent a bit in
reaction and I got a lungful of air. “I'm his hostage! He has an assault gun
under the cot in here!” I could taste coppery blood from the cut on my lip.
Fell to my knees in a position of submission. There would be no mistaking who
was assaulting who.

My decree brought forth armed and masked
men in pixelated camouflage, rifles drawn and headlamps burning bright. Three
men crowded into the tent with Mike and I. As soon as the men appeared, one
gave me a hand up and took me by the arm, led me outside.

“Who are you?” Bright light shone into
my eyes, obscuring the face of my interrogator.

“Kaylis Woods. I was in a car accident
by Lightening Mountain, and he,” I pointed at Mike, now handcuffed and glaring
at me, “pulled me from my car and brought me up here. He refused to take me
home or to Glenn General Hospital.” I shook like a leaf in the wind. My heart
must have been beating faster than the pistons in the engines of Lightening
Mountain's race cars.

“What type of car were you driving?”

“A '98 Jeep Grand Cherokee.”

Another man in camo came and stood next
to me. “What in the name of God are you doing here, Kaylis?”

Wiley and his SWAT season.

“Do you have cell or satellite reception
here? Call Dmitri right now, Wiley. He doesn't know where I am and that I'm
okay. Please, please, right now.” I begged. If Dmitri and I had switched roles,
I'd be bugging out with worry.

“You don't look okay. You need medical
attention.”

I put my hands on Wiley's arm and looked
up into his lean face smeared with camouflage makeup. “I'll be fine. I just
need Dmitri to know I'm okay. He's got to be worried sick about me by now.”

Wiley looked over his shoulder and called
to another one of the wardens, “You got this?”

“Copy.”

Wiley lent me his arm and guided me down
to where the Game Wardens parked. “Tell me everything.”

And boy, did I ever. From the fight with
Dmitri to the point of impacting vehicles and then waking up bound in a
sleeping bag. When I finished, Wiley asked if I wanted to press charges.
“At the least, he's looking at kidnapping, assault and battery. It's up to you
whether charges are pressed. That, in addition to charges from the state for
illegal cultivation and possession of contraband firearm.”

Didn't take long for me to make up my
mind. “Yes, I want to press charges. It's better than a restraining order.”
Fucker brought me up to a pot grow. Fan-fucking-tabulous. Hell yes, press
charges and I hope the judge substitutes a brick when he throws the book at
Mike.

With half a smile, Wiley said, “I'll
need you to write a statement.” From inside the truck cab he found paper, a
clipboard and pen.

As I wrote down everything I just told
Wiley, I heard him get on his phone. “Hey, Dude... yeah, I know. Calm down.
She's here. I have her right here and she's safe. A little dinged up but
otherwise fine.”

And I was. The adrenaline rush from
standing up to Mike, something I couldn't comprehend ever doing before,
intensely pulsated through my body, pushing away my body aches.

I didn't run, I didn't hide, I didn't
cower. I asserted myself. A first with Mike. God, I wish I had stood up to him
long before. Better late than never. Although had the wardens not come... I
can't say what would have happened.

“I'm going to take her to Glenn Gen to
be checked out... yeah, she's got some scrapes and cuts, nothing major I can
see. Yeah. Can do. Here she is.” Wiley held the phone toward me and I snatched
it up.

“Dmitri? I'm so sorry.” With all that
transpired since I last saw him, emotions bubbled to the overflow point and
slipped down my cheek in relief of talking to him again. “Me getting pissed was
stupid and I'm sorry.” Tears burned my eyes. I almost lost him. In a fit of
anger, I set myself up for stupidity. I didn't have to like his decision to see
Lorryn, but I didn't need to stomp out like a bitch about it, either.

Dmitri's voice filled my mind as he
spoke. “Jesus, sweetheart, don't apologize. I'll meet you at the hospital with
your mom. Jet too. She was freaking out and called me when your phone cut out
after the crash. She heard everything. She said she heard Mike's voice.”

“She did. He pulled me from the Jeep.
Said it caught on fire.”

“I know you loved that car, but it's
totaled. No one noticed the accident because of the races for a couple minutes,
but then the gas tank exploded. Got everyone's attention.” Dmitri's voice grew
husky, troubled. “As soon as Jet called me, I drove up to the race track and
saw your Jeep in flames. Been freaking out since. They found the other driver,
he was thrown from the car and died on impact. They think it was alcohol
related. But they couldn't find you.”

“Mike hauled me up to the mountains.
Wanted to talk to me. I'm pressing charges. He wouldn't take me home or to the
hospital.”

“Are you okay, babe? Really?”

Giving him a hug would make me immensely
better. Until then, “I'm better than I was, Dmitri. I'm going to want a bath
when I get home. I'm sore all over.” Two bubble bars for tonight's therapy
soaking session. A hot bubble bath never sounded so blissful in my life.