The Nightlife San Antonio: (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series) (18 page)

She rolled over on top of him, grabbing his face so he would look her in the eyes. “Adria
n Faulkner. What. Do. You. Mean?”

His dilated, drunken gaze avoided her eyes, but when he finally looked at her
, the truth settled into her belly with a sick churn. “Oh god, what have you done?”

“I can’t live life as a wanted man, a murder
er on the run with a Drug Queen. I just can’t. You don’t know what I will become. I have lived on that edge before, in Iraq. I want something better for my life. That’s why I took the paramedic training. I don’t want to be a mercenary.”

“Adrian, this is not about what you want. And we will not run forever, trust me. We just need to get out of the U.S. for a
while, until the heat dies down. It won’t always be like this.”

“Look, there was a counselor I met a couple of months before I discharged from the army. He … he told me some things that I didn’t believe at the time. I didn’t want to believe it. But, I know he was right.”

“What does this have to do with us getting our asses to Corpus Cristi, right now?”

“There’s something wrong with me, Sam. I’
m not like everyone else.”

“Duh. You think I didn’t see that in the first fifteen minutes in your apartment?”

He frowned and looked at her strangely. “Let me finish. He saw it in my military record. He could read between the lines. Damn shrinks always get inside your fucking head.”

“I am still waiting.” She reached down to stroke his balls and run her fingers over his wet cock.

His hand grabbed hers and pulled it back up to rest against his chest. “In Iraq, when the shooting started, I was afraid, just like everyone else, but I also caught this rush, almost like a drug high. Last night, when I killed those men, it was the same. I like it, the violence, the challenge, the intensity of the confrontation. I like it … a lot.”

She
waited impatiently for him to get to the point. So far, all he’d done was convince her he was indeed the right man to have at her side.

“Don’t you get it? I’m not right in
the head, Samantha. The shrink called me a borderline sociopath. But, I’m pretty sure I crossed that border a long time ago.”

Shrinks and their labels
. Why can’t a person just be different, odd, weird, obnoxious? Why does everything need a classification? Probably so they can sell more drugs and sponge more counseling visits. “I don’t give a shit what your shrink said. I need you, Adrian. I need a man who can take down mafia soldiers and not think twice about it. I’m not complaining.”

A switch clicked in his face, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“It’s no good. I don’t want to be that man. I’m a paramedic. I save people’s lives. I can be a better man. I know I can, I just need to try harder.”

Lord, this was the wrong
time for him to start having a conscience. “Well, we can’t always get what we want. But if you try, sometimes you get what you need.” She grinned and pecked his lips.

H
is eyes flashed. “Did you just quote the Rolling Stones?”

“
More paraphrase than quote.”

He laughed in her face, and she
couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m serious. Adrian, the best thing you can do, for me, and for yourself, is to accept who you are, what you are. Accept it because that’s how we’ll survive, and there isn’t much choice in the matter. You’re stuck with me. Where I go, you go.”

He smiled, kissed her back, and swatted her ass. “
Okay, come on. We’re gonna have fun tonight. Its Friday, our last night in the country, let’s make it count.”

He slipped out from under her and reached into a shopping bag at the side of the bed. “I brought you a little something.”

“Adrian, that’s so beautiful!” She snatched it from his hand. A dress. Not just any dress, a slinky black cocktail dress. What do you know? The guy actually had good taste.

* * * *

“Where are we going?”
Sam checked out Adrian thoroughly as he strolled down the hallway, headed towards the front desk. He was all slicked up in black jeans, glossy black cowboy boots, and a red shirt that gave his hazel eyes a fiery spark.

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and tugged he
r past the desk and into the lounge. The place was already filling with people. A salsa bar. How had he known to choose this place, this music, with the old-world Mexico look, and a hip, upbeat sound? She loved it.

Mus
ic blared loud and obnoxious. A DJ sat high on a balcony mixing up beats and blending songs together. She hadn’t been out to a bar on a Friday night since … never. In her former life, the master wouldn’t allow such things. The only time she ever had to herself was when he sent her to Mexico or the U.S., to manage his business, or do his dirty work. Even then, he kept tabs on her every few hours. He had held a link directly into her mind.

But that line was
broken, along with his hold over her. Samantha was free to be a woman, with a lovely hunk of a man on her arm, dancing to hip hop and salsa, in a bar, just like everyone else. Made her feel almost normal for a moment.

Then the music changed, something slow
. Adrian pulled her up against him tightly, his fingers squeezed her ass. She loved the feel of him, and didn’t care if he raised a few eyebrows with the placement of his hand. This man was hers, and he could put his hands where he pleased – where
she
pleased.

They danced
slow and sensual, not a dance, more a sliding hug, with kisses and caresses, a wondrous feeling so foreign to her. She had never known this kind of casual thing with a man. The music changed and the floor crowded with people. Adrian guided her as they swirled through the ebb and flow of the dance floor. He wasn’t Michael Jackson, all he had was this simple two-step routine, but she didn’t care. She was dancing with
her
man, and though silly, and certainly not the wisest thing to do at the moment, it was fun.

She couldn’t recall the last time she
’d had this much fun. The music changed again, a slow R&B ballad and he slipped his leg firm between hers, massaging her warm center in a slow grind.

God
, she was so wet, and ready to give up that virginity one more time. She glanced at the restroom, wondering if there was enough room in the stall to get it on real quick.

He leaned in close
, his nose nuzzling into her hair. “Why are you so quiet? What’s on your mind?” His lips teased her as he spoke right against her ear.

She looked up into his eyes, this enigmatic male she had claimed, and decided to be truthful. “I was thinking of you.”

He gave her that naughty grin that she had learned to be wary of. There was something different about him tonight. He seemed anxious to do things with her, focused solely on her, spending time with her. He’d bought her this fuck-me dress and matching black sandals, took her dancing. Very uncharacteristic of the man she’d been sleeping with for the past three nights.

She nipped at his ear with her teeth and growled low.
“I was wondering what you’re up to.”

He answered with
a kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, which is what she hoped he was up to. The growing lump in his pants brushed against her hip as he crushed her lips with his own. They had stopped moving to the music, nothing but hot, juicy kisses that tasted so good her teeth dropped down, ready for something more.

The music changed, and he pulled away, glancing around once to catch a couple people staring at them.

“We’d better go before someone recognizes you.” He snagged her arm and escorted her off the dance floor.

“What do
you mean? How would anyone recognize me?”

He kept
walking, adjusting the crotch of his pants as he pulled her out of the bar. “Sam, it’s all over the news, the shooting at my apartment. A witness saw me fleeing the scene with a woman. The cops have figured out we’re together. We’re now both San Antonio’s most wanted.”

Her hand flew to
her mouth. She couldn’t believe she was wearing this sparkling cocktail dress, dancing like a fool in front of everyone, while the television was blasting her photo all across the city. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Why am I wearing this ridiculous outfit, so everyone who sees me notices? Are you trying to get us caught?”

She was digging into his arm hard, and he winced. He pried her sharp claws away from his forearm. “I just wanted to
have this time with you before …”

“Before what?”

“Before we left. Before there was no more time to enjoy ourselves.”

“I can
’t believe you’d be so foolish as to take me out dancing with a city-wide manhunt going on.”

“Okay, maybe it was foolish …”

“Maybe?”

He kept pulling her
out the door, into the parking lot, to the truck, and opened his passenger door for her. “I guess it’s time to get you out of this city.” He didn’t look very happy.

“Yeah, finally.” She hopped in and shook her head, not understanding what the hell this man was thinking. She’d have to keep a sharp eye on him in the nights to come, make sure he didn’t pull something this stupid again.
She looked in the back seat to verify he’d already packed his bag. At least he’d done that much.

He drove
off into the traffic downtown, and circled around. Just when she thought he’d turn right, towards the highway, he turned left. She held her tongue, waiting to see what he was doing. No one likes a passenger seat driver.

When he turned left again and parked at a city parking lot, she knew something was very wrong. “What the fuck are we doing
, Adrian?”

The look on his face struck her heart like a hammer.
Dios mio, he’s turning me in to the police!
She scrambled for the door latch to get out and run, but he grabbed her.

“Whoa, calm down. It’s not what you’re thinking!”

She elbowed him, caught a grunt for satisfaction, but he wouldn’t let go. “So what is it, Adrian? What are we doing here?”

There was no one else around, no cop cars, no people, only the light
s illuminating a stone-tiled plaza in front of an old Spanish mission. She recognized the place, the infamous
Alamo
.

He hugged her tight and breathed in her scent. “I made a call for help. A friend.”

She didn’t like the sound of this at all. She had no friends, except Adrian, and he was proving to be surprisingly stupid. “What do we need anyone for? Hit the highway. Go! That’s what we need to do.”

“Not in this pickup. I’m making sure you get to the coast with no problems.
I’m not taking any chances.”

That sounded better, but her gut disagreed. Something about this deal was not right, not at all.

“So why didn’t you tell me earlier? We have to trust each other, Adrian. No secrets.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to ruin our evening.”

Too late for that
.

With a sigh, he tapped the digital clock on
the dashboard of his truck which read 11:59 p.m. “Time to go.” He checked the load in his pistol, slid the clip back in, and handed it to her. “Keep this, just in case.”

She took it, yet again having nowhere to put it in her ridiculous cocktail dress. “
I thought we were meeting a friend?”

He checked the load in his second pistol and slipped it behind his shirt, into the waist of his jeans. “Yeah, well, you never know.”

God, this man could be so maddening!

He kissed her once more, slow and delicious, a complete contrast to her roiling stomach that told her everything here was definitely not okay. He broke away, with a hand on her cheek. “Give me one more
, real quick.”

She frowned, not understanding his meaning, but then he turned his neck aside, baring himself for her. Her teeth were in agreement, one little bite wouldn’t hurt.

They embraced and each got what they wanted. She made it quick, and licked away the leftover blood, to seal the pinprick wounds. Her venom was a potent drug that could both hook Adrian, and help him heal.

She caught movement out the corner of her eye and let go of Adrian. Her pistol automatically swung up in the man’s direction.
“Him?”

Adrian clicked a switch,
dropped the passenger window and leaned over her. “Are you ready to do this?”

Crenshaw had his hands up. “Everything’s ready to go, but she can’t have that, dude. We ain’t doing business like that.” He pointed at her pistol.

Adrian slowly pulled her gun hand down, but every instinct she had told her to keep it on Crenshaw. “What’s he here for, Adrian? I thought we were just trading vehicles?”

Adrian slipped the
gun from her hand and tucked it under the seat. “Yes, you are.”