Rock Me Deeper (Licks of Leather #5) - Jenna Jacob Page 0,5
of charging elephants, we thundered through the kitchen and out into the inky night. I didn’t look back to see if the last man out closed the door or not. I didn’t care. My brain was fixed on keeping Caris safe and getting to the SUV parked two blocks away.
Crouched behind the perfectly trimmed hedgerow on the side of Zattman’s property, we silently watched him exit his car and enter the house. As soon as he stepped inside and shut the door, we sprinted down the sidewalk, like the hounds of hell were nipping at our heels. Caris sank her nails into my shoulders and held on tight as our boots pounded the pavement.
Half a block from the SUV, sirens started wailing in the distance.
“Faster, fuckers,” Ross tersely growled.
He was only a few feet from the vehicle when he pointed the fob and unlocked the doors. I was huffing and puffing like a porn star, but the physically fit drummer—who worked out every day and wasn’t even winded—climbed in behind the wheel.
The sirens were growing louder as Ozzy dove into the front passenger seat. I was only a couple yards from the SUV as Darren and Burk filed into the back. Veering toward the driver’s side, I cupped Caris’s head, bent down, and slid in next to Darren.
“Go. Go,” Burk ordered, pivoting in his seat to stare out the back window.
“Lose your masks,” Ross instructed, tugging his off and tossing it in Ozzy’s lap.
The rest of us followed suit as the big drummer eased from the curb.
“Why are you driving so slow?” Darren’s voice dripped with urgency.
“You want me to punch on the gas? Smoke the fucking tires? How about I just start honking the horn so the cops will know we’re leaving the scene of the crime.”
The sarcastic reply had no more left Ross’s lips than blue and red strobes lit up the night behind us. Caris tensed and turned a frightened gaze over my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I watched Burk shove the envelopes and some of the cash we’d lifted from Zattman’s safe under his seat.
“Fuck,” Darren barked as the air spiked with fear. “We’re busted.”
“Easy, guys. They’re still blocks away,” Ozzy stated calmly, keeping his gaze glued out the back window. “Ross, get us off this street and out of the subdivision as fast as you safely can.”
As the big drummer grunted, a shiver quaked Caris’s body.
Stroking her back softly, I leaned in close to her ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you to safety soon.”
Ross weaved through numerous side streets, putting much-needed distance between us and the cops. But it was several more miles before Caris started to relax. I was more worried about her injuries than the cops. Reaching up, I started to peel back the sheet so I could inspect her wounds. She bristled and tried to cover her wrists, but I shook my head and worked to keep my expression in check as I studied the new blood oozing over several dried layers caking her skin. Caris had fought those fucking ropes, trying to avoid horrors my mind couldn’t comprehend. The thought of her struggling to escape his torture filled me with potent bloodlust. Tamping down my rage, I focused on what I could do to help her.
“Show me your ankles,” I murmured.
“They’re fine. I’ll take care of them later.” She nervously licked her lips, then leaned up toward Ross. “Can you please drop me off at a house in Beverly Hills?”
The drummer darted a quizzical stare at me in the rearview mirror. I answered with a barely perceptible shake of my head. She needed medical attention.
“You live in LA now?” I asked before Ross could respond.
“No. A friend and I are just visiting.”
A male friend, no doubt.
An irrational rush of jealousy flooded my veins while a million questions I had no right to ask crowded my brain. I didn’t have the right to interrogate her, but no way in hell was I going to drop Caris off and drive away without asking a few questions.
“How did you get tangled up with Zattman?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Carl Zattman…the guy who did this to you.”
“Carl? He told me his name was Anthony.”
“It’s not.”
“Did you hire him to represent you?” Ozzy asked.
“She’s not a musician,” I imparted.
Caris scoffed. “Not hardly. I met him at a bar two nights ago.”
“And you, what, just went home with him?” I asked incredulously.
“No, not that it’s any of your business.” Caris scowled. “I didn’t go willingly. Carl or