Resist Me (Change Me Book One - standalone): McCoy Raven Boys (10 page)

There wasn’t a drive through. I ran inside, keeping my eye on Lisbeth. I asked her to stay quietly in the truck. The burritos arrived very quickly. I got two extra-large Cokes, bunch of napkins, and a handful of hot sauce packets with the order, all stuffed neatly in two brown paper bags.
 

Lisbeth straighten out as soon as I approached the truck. She leaned across my seat and opened the driver side door for me. I placed the bags on the seat and then passed one of them to her together with the Coke and a very long straw. She took it swiftly and held my food out of the way, so I could get in. That earned her even more points.
 

I was impressed once more and started to think that all the women I’ve taken on dates were selfish, since I couldn’t remember just one going out of her way to help out, even with the smallest stuff. It was as if each of them expected to be always waited on and carried for. I did that nevertheless, maybe just to humor myself. It never mattered anyway, because there rarely was a second date. I wasn’t interested in relationships. All I wanted was hot, sweaty sex, and then moving to the next girl.
 

Lisbeth sank her teeth in the burrito and made a satisfying sound. She looked at me, raised her eyebrows, and, swallowing quickly, said, “Oh, man, this is heaven. So good.” She took a long pull of her Coke and sighed. “I haven’t had a burrito in so long.”

“Glad you’re enjoying it.” I smiled.
 

“Oh, wait.” She set down her food in a nest of napkins placed between her tights and licked her fingers. She took my burrito from my lap, carefully unraveled the top part of the aluminum foil, and handed it back to me. “Will you be able to eat and drive? If not, we can take turns.”

Would she stop impressing me? I wasn’t used to women like her. “I can handle it.” I took a bite. Lisbeth was right—that burrito sucker
was
tasty.
 

Soon after we were done with our food, I took another exit.

“Where are we going this time?” Lisbeth asked.
 

“To get some groceries.”

I parked close to the front door of the store. The building sat alone in this part of the lot, but there was a Chinese restaurant, a barbershop, and a pawnshop on the opposite site. Before exiting the truck, I quickly scanned the area. There were a few other cars and trucks parked in the lot, some of them by the grocery store, but most by the other buildings.
 

Lisbeth put her hood on, pulling down on its front to cover her face as much as the fabric would allow it. When I reached for my sweatshirt from the back seat, she was unbuckling and leaned in my direction. We came face to face, too close to ignore. She was just inches from me, her lips parted, her eyes on mine. Her warm breath tickled my mouth. Sudden heat roared inside me, sending waves of desire straight to my groin. I quickly pulled away from her and clicked the button to release my seatbelt.
 

She turned her head in the other direction, her body tense. Keeping her eyes down, she asked, “Is it okay to open the door and get out? What’s the plan?”

I felt a pang of remorse for being such an asshole to her earlier today. Lisbeth didn’t deserve any of this. Hell, she didn’t ask for my help. I offered it freely, and so I needed to make her feel protected and not uncomfortable or scared of me. That was going to be a real challenge, because I’ve never had to worry about a fragile side of a woman. They came and went, and that was all I’ve always wanted. But with Lisbeth the situation was completely different, and so I had to switch my way of thinking. And my way of acting.
 

“We will go inside and buy some necessities. There isn’t much at the cabin since the last time I was there. Try not to look at anyone and act natural.”

“Natural? We might have a different understanding of what’s natural.”

“Okay, I get it,” I said. She was right. What the hell did that even mean,
natural
? “Kind of like a bored teenager, I suppose?”
 

“I’m past my teenage years, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Oh, I noticed alright. I noticed how deliciously curvy her body was, how mature was her demeanor. “I wasn’t suggesting you’re a teen.” I snorted. We just need to act sort of invisible, blend with the crowd.
 

“Sure, okay.” She opened the passenger door and got out.
 

We walked in. Much to my relief, there were many shoppers inside. I noticed the cameras mounted in the corners above the shelves, but as long as Lisbeth kept her head down, we were fine.
 

I took a cart from the front of the store and pushed it toward the frozen section isle. Soon, the cart was filled with a few boxes of frozen pizza, a small tower of microwave dinners, two tubes of ice cream, three large bags of ice, and a small bag of frozen peas.
 

“You like peas?” Lisbeth asked.
 

“Not my first choice.”
 

“I won’t eat them, in case you got them for me,” she said.
 

“They work great as an extra icepack for sore muscles or such.”

She looked at me from under her hood. I grinned. I honestly got them for sore muscles, since I sometimes overexerted myself during my daily workouts. But I just remembered what a frozen peas bag was recently used for back in my Portland house—Anne Fisher’s swollen pussy, after an exceptionally wild weekend together.
 

Lisbeth shot me a curious look. “Something funny about frozen peas?”

“Let’s get a couple of those large jags of water.” I turned to the next isle, and she followed.
 

I pushed Anne Fisher out of my mind. It was over between us. I liked my freedom, and there were plenty of beautiful and willing women who felt the same and were happy with serving to my particular sexual taste. I wasn’t interested in marriage, kids, and a little house in the suburbs like Anne was. Even though she made a great submissive and eagerly agreed at first to my “no strings attached” rule, she got clingy after a couple of weeks. She kept texting and calling me multiple times each day, which ended our fun together right away.
 

Lisbeth and I hurried through the store, loading the cart with a shampoo, soap, laundry detergent, coffee, and food. She insisted on splitting the bill, but I only waived her off. It would be ridiculous to accept any money from her. I doubted she had much, and we could only use cash. We stood in a short line to the register and then moved all the items from the cart and onto the conveyor belt. The cashier woman rang it all through. I paid and took a receipt from her when I heard Lisbeth say in a shaky, scared voice, “You! You’re from there! Are you one of them?”

What the hell? She was pointing at a guy who stood in line behind us. He wore a blood-red shirt with large block letters in white that spelled RU FLORIDA. Below, was an icon that pictured a hand holding a single flame, framed in a thin circle of an olive branch.
 

The guy’s eyes grew large at Lisbeth’s bizarre accusation. He glanced around as if making sure she was, in fact pointing to him. Yes, she was. Everyone around stopped what they were doing and gaped by turns at her and then at the guy.
 

“What is it?” I asked her in a low voice. “What the hell are you doing? Who is this?”

“He might be one of them!” she screamed.
 

“Gloria,” I hissed, using her incognito name. “Stop that. Tell me what’s going on.”

But she backed away, still pointing. This was just weird. Her hunted face looked as if she saw a ghost. I asked again for an explanation but received none. There was a small crowd gathering around us, so I grabbed her elbow and, not too gently, pulled her outside with me. She stumbled but regained her balance and followed me without a complaint. I pushed the cart with one hand, but it was too awkward, so I let go off of Lisbeth and clasped both hands on the cart’s handle.
 

She followed me to the truck. I told her to go sit inside while I took care of the purchases. I loaded everything inside, packing all the perishables into the two large coolers fastened to the truck’s bed. I hopped in and peeled out of the parking lot without wasting any time.
 

“What the fuck was that about?” I almost yelled. “What were you thinking? I told you not to talk to people or even look at anyone.”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” She was shaking. She seemed scared out of her wits.
 

I clamped my mouth shut, not wanting to cause her another panic attack. My jaws ached from clenching tightly. I swore under my breath and saw with the corner of my eye that Lisbeth was looking at me. I turned my head to see her face. It was wet from tears. Her chin was shaking, and her breath was coming out ragged and very fast.
 

“Shit,” I swore again and pulled to the side of the road. Fortunately, the traffic was sparse, so changing the lanes wasn’t an issue. I stopped the truck, leaving the engine running, and put the gear in park. Turning my body toward her, I willed myself to calm down.
 

She pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes huge and bright-green from crying. I noticed her nails were bit all the way to the quick, which was a common symptom for anxiety disorder.
 

I exhaled with force and ran my hand through my hair. “Okay,” I began and then looked away, forcing my raging nerves in check. “What the hell happened in there?”

“I… I…” She was sobbing, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
 

“Lisbeth, get yourself together. Breathe. Slowly.” I kept my voice steady and calm. We didn’t need another panic attack from her.
 

I pulled her hand away from her mouth and motioned to her to lean against the seat. I didn’t have to find her pulse to know it was racing. But she was slowly relaxing, keeping those amazing eyes on me all the while.
 

“That’s it. Keep breathing.” I realized I was squeezing her hand. She was squeezing mine right back, clutching at it with all her mind.
 

We stayed like this for a few minutes. Lisbeth closed her eyes. Her short, ragged breaths soon turned into long and smooth intakes of air, until she calmed down and relaxed her grip on my fingers. I slid my hand away from hers.
 

She opened her eyes, and there was so much sadness in them, so much torment. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m a burden.”

I looked at her, feeling one corner of my mouth lifting in a smile. “Not a burden. A challenge maybe.”

“Will you tell me now what exactly happened in there?” I asked as gently as I could muster.
 

Her hand went back to her mouth, and her eyebrows wrinkled like little caterpillars. I wanted to comfort her, but I had to be careful, not knowing what just happened. I asked again, “Please. Lisbeth, you know I’m here to help. Tell me who that person was. Do you know him?”

She made a small, frightened noise. Her shoulders shook from sobs, but she was slowly calming down. I waited. A few minutes later, she put her hands in her lap and looked at me. Her eyes were red from crying, but she seemed more composed.
 

“Did you see his shirt?” she started.
 

“Yes,” I said slowly, unsure where this was going.
 

“Do you know where it was from?”

“No.”

She looked straight in my eyes and said, “It was the Rothland University—and Ivy League school in Tampa. That’s where those… those…” she was sobbing again.
 

“Shhh.” I touched her arm. “Breathe.”

“Oh.” Lisbeth shook her head slowly. “They were from Rothland. The guys who attacked Helen and took her life.”
 

“Lisbeth.” I sat up straight. “Was he one of them? Tell me right away.” If that was one of those assholes, we were going back.
I
was going back after him. Guys like that belonged only in two places: in prison or six feet underground.
 

“No, I don’t think so. He looked like a freshman. Those were for sure seniors, much older, bigger, you know—they had large-muscled bodies, like… like football players. The guy there was skinny.”

He was. He looked like a kid to be honest. But that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if he was small or huge. If he was one of them, I wouldn’t think twice before breaking his jaw and then each of his limbs, before calling the cops.
 

“Are you sure?” I asked, looking sharply at her.
 

“Positive. I remember each of them, even though I didn’t see all their faces. But their large, muscular bodies... I will never forget…” Her voice shook on the last four words.
 

There was so much pain in her eyes. I wanted to help, but I wasn’t sure how to without crossing any lines. So I only patted her hand and said, “That shirt was just a nasty coincidence. We are far from Florida here.” Maybe that wasn’t the most brilliant line I could’ve come up with, but it would have to do for now.
 

Her features relaxed a notch, and she leaned her head back on the headrest, closing her eyes.
 

“Let’s go now.” I gently squeezed her hand.