I’m not a good man and have never been called a saint. So when she pulls the wet dress over her head, I absolutely look.
Her tits are spilling over the top of her strapless bra, and I feel myself get hard. Fuck, she’s too damn young for me to be looking at her like this, but I can’t stop. Holding her over my shoulder earlier gave me an up close view of her round ass, and just exactly how those curves would feel against me.
“Eyes on the road, big guy,” she scolds, and I look away.
She pulls on the faded black T-shirt I found at the thrift store. It’s got the name of a band I’ve never heard of on it, but the way it clings to her makes me a fan. I look down again when she tosses the soaking wet dress in the backseat and her thighs spread on top of the towel. She grabs the jeans and has to lift her hips to put them on, and I think about her lifting them as I fuck her pretty little cunt.
I clear my throat to get my mind off of just how good she’d feel wrapped around my dick. “We’re taking a train to New York,” I say, trying to distract my cock.
“I can’t leave the country.” She slips on the shoes and looks down at them like she’s surprised those fit too. I’m good at my job, and thorough enough to get her sizes right.
“What do you think will happen at the border if you make a scene?” I ask, letting her weigh the risk and rewards.
“The cops will come and save me.”
I look at her and shake my head. “No. They will ask questions, and they won’t be ones you’re prepared to answer. I’ll have all the information along with the paperwork that makes you my ward. It will show them you’re mentally incapable of being on your own, and I’m in charge of transporting you back to your family.” Tears begin to well in her eyes again, and I curse myself. “I’m sorry. I’m used to dealing with hardened criminals, not sheltered little girls.”
“I’m not a little girl,” she says angrily and balls up her fists on either side of her.
“It’s not a bad thing.” I reach out and take one of her fists in my hand. “It means you’re not cold inside like the men I deal with. I need to be more careful with you.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asks again, the plea in her voice almost painful.
“All will be explained,” I vow, and the fist I’m holding on to relaxes. “I need you to cooperate and get on the train with me. I won’t hurt you, but I will lie and manipulate the border guards into not believing you. Once you are on the train with me, we’ll talk.”
“And you’ll tell me everything?”
“I’ll tell you what I can,” I agree, and after a moment of hesitation, she nods.
“What’s your name?” She looks over at me like she’s trying to guess.
“Dutch.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes.” When our eyes meet, I feel something in my chest, so I look away quickly. I’m getting distracted, and I need to focus.
The train station is the next exit, and after I turn off, I pull into the parking lot. I grab my bag from the backseat and leave her wet dress on the floorboard. When I go around to the passenger side, I hold my hand out, but she hesitates.
“Come with me if you want answers,” I tell her, and she presses her lips together tightly before she takes my hand.
As we walk away, she turns back to look at the car. “Don’t you need to lock it or something?”
“No, it’s stolen,” I tell her, and she looks at me in surprise. “Don’t worry, you’re the only person I’ve taken without permission.” And after a long beat of silence, I shrug. “Well, today at least.”
Chapter Five
Iris
Dutch keeps his hand tight around my wrist as he pulls me through the busy train station. My feet move on their own, letting him lead me through the throng of people. Everything he said bounces around inside of my head, and I don’t know why I’m even considering it. Which is insane, because I know who my parents are.
What if this is one of those crazy stories where the children were accidentally switched at birth? But then why would Dutch be kidnapping me if that’s what happened? Unless my parents didn’t want to switch back with the right kid. Okay, now I’m being ridiculous, but who can blame me at this point? I’ve been tossed into a reality TV situation, and my brain is dizzy.
Dutch slows his pace as we near the train, and even though it’s crowded, I notice people jump out of his way when they see him coming. A few women even stop to check him out, and maybe if he hadn’t kidnapped me I might find him attractive too.
“Don’t worry, ladies, he’ll probably kidnap you too one day.” I smile at them, but clearly they think I’m crazy because they shake their heads at me.
He stops suddenly, but my feet are still moving and I run right into his oversized body. I bounce back, but I don't fall as he grabs a hold of me and keeps me steady. He stares down at me and then his brow furrows.
“Sorry, I keep forgetting how little you are.”
Did he really apologize to me? This has to be the world's strangest kidnapping.
His hands tighten around me, and I’m frozen in place as he leans down. The closer he gets, the faster my heart beats, and I lick my lips. My breath catches in my lungs when I feel something that has to be a third leg pressing hard against my stomach.
“I have my documents, but know this, no one is going to take you from me. If they try, you’ll be responsible for what I have to do.” He pulls back. “Got it?”
I nod my head. Those women we passed didn’t even believe me. They thought I was messing with them, and honestly I kind of was. I watched how easily Dutch handled Brock, and it took nothing to subdue him.
When Dutch begins walking again, we go down a long walkway and then step onto the train. We pass a few doors before he opens one and pushes me inside. He quickly closes the door behind us, and I try to look anywhere but at him.
The room is small with a bench on each side facing each other and a single window to see out. Dutch reaches up and pulls the curtains closed, blocking out the rest of the world.
“When we start moving they’ll come through for our tickets and passports.” I drop down into the seat, and he takes the one across from me. I watch as he pulls out a folder and places it beside him.
The conductor makes a final call before the train jerks and starts to move. I’m surprised when my eyes fill with tears. I’ve been so calm for most of the travel, but knowing we’re leaving the country makes it final.
He did it. He’s gotten away without anyone catching up to us.
He pulls out two American passports and places them on top of the folder. I wipe at my cheeks as a few tears slip away.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently.
His voice still manages to sound gruff, but something about it makes me believe him. He’s been kind when he could have been cruel, and part of me thinks he actually believes what he’s telling me. He sees this as him doing the right thing.
“I love my parents.”
“Even if they kidnapped you?” he challenges.
I nod. I’m close with my dad, and I know my mom cares for me even if she doesn’t show it. But her trying to marry me off to Brock was too far. At the end of the day, what she wants always overrides what I want. It doesn't matter that I’m an adult; she will always try to control my life in one way or another.