“Could you please get these things off?” I snap, anger rising.
He smirks. “I like the look of you like this.”
“Spider!”
His smile grows huge, and he rattles the cuffs halfheartedly. Then he looks over his shoulder. “Striker, find the keys to these things, will you?” But his tone is nonchalant, as if we have all the time in the world.
How in the Devil can he be so casual about this? It’s unsettling.
“Yep.” Striker bends and rummages through the kidnapper’s pockets until he finds the keys. “Rat.” He tosses them to the other man with them.
Rat catches the keys in his fist and comes over to us. The front of his shirt is interesting. It has a man in a running pose who looks like he’s wearing some sort of blue leotard, with a helmet and a red and white shield. Words above the figure read, I am Captain America.
“Where the hell are your shoes?” Spider asks me, looking at my bare feet while Rat unlocks the cuffs.
“In the van. I guess he took them off so I wouldn’t run.”
“Smart plan, as we all know you like to do that.”
“How did you find me out here?” I ask, ignoring the jibe.
Spider’s lips twitch. “Trade secret.” He takes hold of my elbow and pulls me to my feet. “Striker, get her shoes from the van.”
Striker leaves, looking relieved to be out of here. What is going on with him?
“I wasn’t even sure you were going to come,” I say to Spider.
“I wasn’t about to let you get away.” His hand curls around my nape, his squeezing fingers like a brand on my skin as he pulls me in. When he speaks again, his voice is a low growl. “It’s a good thing you didn’t run from me, Wildcat, otherwise you and I would be having a very different discussion right now.”
He puts his mouth to my ear. “By the way, I heard what you said before I came in here.”
“What are you talking about?”
He draws back and his thumb strokes my lips. “I’ll be happy to show you just how dirty this Outlaw can be.”
My eyes widen. I don’t believe this!
“I was trying to get into his head,” I grit out between my teeth.
“Were you now?”
“Uh! I was saying what I had to in order to get out of a bad situation!”
He hums in his throat. “Is that what you were doing with me when you asked me to start working again? Getting into my head?”
Guilt eats away at me, and I open my mouth, only to close it, unable to give a good response.
Spider smirks. “My tricky Little Thief.”
Okay, he’s not behaving at all as if I was just dragged off by a man who would have let another club kill me while he watched. He hasn’t asked me if I’m all right. He must know I was terrified, and it doesn’t seem to matter to him one bit.
He didn’t come here to save me. He came here to take back what’s his with all the compassion of a man retrieving a favorite toy.
The realization cuts like a knife. Any gratitude I felt for his being here evaporates. The man I’d seen in him the night Cap was shot would have asked. He’d have held me, kissed me. My heart shatters, suddenly and completely, the shards slicing at my chest.
If there was any doubt that the man I almost fell for only days ago is still in there, it’s gone now. There’s no sign of him. He’s all determination and possession and darkness. His chest rises and falls hard, but I’m sure it’s not from relief at seeing me safe and unharmed. It’s just the adrenaline from the altercation with an armed enemy.
My gut twists.
“You didn’t rescue me at all, did you?” I say dropping my shoulders.
“Have I ever done anything to give you the impression I’m a fucking white knight?” He shakes his head. “I’m no hero, Wildcat.” Spider buries his face in the side of my hair, inhaling deeply. His fingers tighten on the back of my neck. “But I’d kill anyone who tries to take you from me.”
“Even me, right?” I quip.
He answers without blinking, totally matter of fact. “Yes.”
Striker returns, handing me my shoes and socks and preventing me from having to come up with a suitable reply.
“Hurry up. Get those on.” Spider releases me. “We need to get out of here.”