As soon as I saw the guy at the bar staring at his untouched food like it was some kind of tragedy, I knew he was the one.

The one who will get me out of this shithole for good.

I can tell at a glance he's got just the kind of pain I need: some sort of hurt that goes deep and that wants to come out in bad ways.

I can work with that.

It was a stroke of luck, finding him, but I guess I'm due some luck, after all.

When I'd overheard Karin drawing up yet another contract for me, only days after I'd finished the last, I knew I had to get away. Or at least try.

I'd left with nothing—just walked away—curious to see how far I'd get before Karin set his dogs on my trail.

Not far, it turns out; but maybe just far enough—if I can only get this guy to take me the rest of the way.

For now, Pax and Roman have pissed off, though I know they're waiting somewhere nearby, ready to take me back as soon as I finish what they think I came here to do. As long as they believe my man here paid the price already, they know better than to interfere.

At the moment, the man in question is perched on the edge of the bed in his crappy motel room, looking tense as a cat in a rising flood. It makes me want to laugh.

"Do you want to call someone?" he asks me, looking at his phone. "One of these national hotline things? Or...your parents, maybe?"

That does make me laugh, and he looks up in surprise, ice-blue eyes startled and wide. He's got a nice face, now that I look at him—a bit like a ginger Chris Hemsworth. Kind of hot, actually. Maybe I can use that, too.

"No," I say, sitting next to him on the bed and shifting closer, putting a bit of purr in my voice. "I don't want to call anyone. There's no one to call for someone like me. I just want to get away from here. Won't you take me with you? I promise I can make it worth your while."

He stands abruptly and moves away from me, running his fingers through his hair and making it stand up in auburn spikes.

"Look, I wanna help," he says. "But I gotta understand what's going on here. You're in trouble, right?"

I nod, making my eyes as big as I can—the little lost kitten look. I smirk to myself as I see it gets him good.

"So who are those guys? Human traffickers? Some sort of prostitution ring?"

I shake my head. I can't lie, but he's so far off the mark I don't have to.

"They work for Karin. He owns me."

"Owns you?" he repeats, looking horrified.

"Well, he thinks he does. He paid my mom good money, after all."

"Oh, God." He covers his mouth with his hand and sits back down on the bed.

I'm kind of gratified by his reactions. Maybe he's not just a damaged tool after all.

"Don't let them take me back there," I beg and reach for his arm, not having to pretend the desperation at all. "Please, I'll do anything you want."

He stands again, almost leaping away from my touch.

"Let's get one thing straight," he says, "because it seems like you can tell I'm not. I don't want anything from you, and I'm sure as hell not into kids."

"Gross, I hope not," I reply, making a face. "I'm older than I look," I add. "I'm almost twenty-one."

In human years, anyway.

He looks at me skeptically. "Yeah, well I'm thirty-four. That makes you a kid to me."

I frown at him but don't argue. It seems like he might actually be a nice guy, which means this might be harder than I'd thought. I'll have to switch tactics.

"Where are you headed?" I ask.

"Alaska," he says, sounding tired. "I'm going to Alaska."

"That's perfect!" I exclaim. "I have relatives in Alaska!"

Again, not a lie, but definitely not true in the way he thinks it is.

"Really?"

I nod, hoping I look as innocent and eager as I'm going for. It seems to work. He drops to the bed once more and flops onto his back, pushing the palms of his hands against his eyes.

"Shit," he groans, broad chest rising and falling with a sigh. "Why do have a feeling I'm going to regret this?"

☙✬❧

A short time later, we're in his big red truck, driving away.

I feel like cackling with joy, but that wouldn't fit the image of the helpless innocent I'm trying to maintain, so I keep quiet and observe the man behind the wheel. I can already feel the strain as the bond Karin forced on me stretches tight as the distance between us grows.

I need to break it fast.

The problem is, I'm not sure how to make this guy stake his claim. He'd told Pax and Roman I was his, and that was a start, but I need a little more to make it stick. Getting him to say my name a few times might help.

"I'm Sam, by the way," I volunteer, as we drive along a stretch of straight road bordered by thick trees.

"Ian," he answers, mouth twisted in a grim parody of a smile. "Nice to meet you."

A few more moments of silence pass, and then, to my alarm, he pulls off the road onto the shoulder and stops his truck.

"Wait, what are you doing? Why are we stopping?" I demand, again not having to fake the panic in my voice.

He looks at me, blue eyes rimmed in red. "I gotta sleep, kid," he says. "I've been driving all day, I bought a meal I didn't eat, and paid for a bed I didn't sleep in. I'm beat."

"But...we're still too close," I insist.

I can still feel Karin's disgusting hold on me, and if I don't break it, or at least weaken it with distance, Pax and Roman will be able to trace my trail.

"Look, kid. You wanna drive? Knock yourself out."

"I don't know how to drive!" I protest. "And stop calling me 'kid.' My name's Sam, and like I said, I'm older than I look."

"But you can't drive." He states, and then yawns so wide his jaw cracks. "Besides, I don't care how old you are. You look like a kid."

"Yeah? Well, you look like a guy who'd bring a date to a cheap motel, so let's not judge based on appearances, okay?" I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

He pops his door and climbs out. "Uh-huh. But I am a guy who'd take a date to a cheap motel. Sometimes things are what they appear," he says, stretching with a groan.

As he raises his arms over his head, I get a glimpse of tight abs and a fiery treasure trail disappearing beneath the waist of his jeans. His clothes seem a little big for him, like he's recently lost weight and not yet bothered to update his wardrobe to reflect the change.

Given the cloud of pain hanging over him, I guess he's had other things on his mind; and despite what he said, it's obvious he's not exactly what he seems.

He wanders away to take a piss and comes back, adjusting the front of his pants and yawning again. Climbing back into the cab, he leans his head against the back of the seat and closes his eyes.

I feel a pulse of rage reaching for me along the weakened bond and suppress a curse.

Karin knows I'm gone.

I look at Ian, his face already relaxing into sleep, and swear under my breath. I hadn't wanted to do this so soon—or at all—but now I've got no choice.

"Ian?" I call softly.

One blue eye opens half-way.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" he mumbles.

"For this."

I move quickly, grab hold, pull him towards me, and press my lips to his.