Shut Up And Kiss Me (Book 1 of the Codey offspring series)

Chapter 1

It's thundering outside and I can't sleep. So here you go..

Chapter 1

Hope Codey was in the dark. She had no idea where she was, all she knew was that her body hurt. It hurt something fierce. No matter how much Hope tried. She couldn't find her way out of the darkness.

.........

One week ago....

"Son of a bitch" Striker muttered as he saw the little beetle trudging down the steep terrain. He had told the guys to make sure no one came this way. He didn't have to be a genius to know that the stupid red bug had eyelashes on the headlights. He huffed, "something only a stupid female would do." He muttered again.

There was no way he could let her pass. The gang had set up camp in that terrain. There was no other outlet. Was she looking to get herself killed? He couldn't believe the Codey's didn't warn the whole family about the danger that surrounded them.

He thanked the powers that be that he had been forced to do patrol today. Any other guy in the gang would have let her through. God knows what they would have done to her. He scowled, knowing exactly what that woman would have been in for. What the hell was he going to do now? He had to stall her or find a way to get her to turn back.

This had suddenly turned into a life and death situation. He frowned knowing there was only one thing to do. He took out his rifle and lined the scope. All he needed to do was take out one of her tires. If she got a flat, she would be forced to call her dad to come fix it. That would get her in serious trouble and maybe that will convince Mr. Mike Codey to finally tell the females what was happening.

He walked over to the ledge of the boulder he was on and lowered to his belly. He peered through his scope and made the necessary changes. If luck was on his side, he would get his perfect shot. "Here goes nothing." He muttered as he pulled the trigger. His silencer made it possible for the others not to hear the noise.

Not that they were close enough to hear, but you never know with that bunch. A bunch of cut throats is what they were. After releasing the shot he automatically looked up and gasped in horror. The stupid female managed to hit the gas instead of the brakes. He held his breath as he realized the direction the car was headed in.

His heart nearly stopped when the right side of the car coasted over the large rocks and flipped. Had he killed her?

He ran down the side of the mountain as fast as he could without losing his balance. He had to reach her. What if the car was leaking gas? What if the damn thing blows? He would never forgive himself if someone else's stupidity made him take an innocent life.

Once there, he noticed that the air bag had deployed. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he had held. He took the knife from his ankle strap and cut at her seatbelt. What the hell was he expected to do now? What if she had whiplash or a back injury?

Right before he did the final slice to release her. His phone dinged. He reached for it and read the text.

"What the fuk was the noise ..."

He frowned as he tried to make out what the hell that was supposed to mean. "Stupid Snake." He muttered knowing that idiot sent this half ass text message. He yanked the phone open and proceeded to type as he kept his eyes on the woman.

"If you were trying to ask me. What the fucking noise was.I got it covered. Make sure no one comes this way. Someone just had an accident. The start of the road will be swarmed by people. Stay hidden for at least the next couple of days. There's no way I'll be able to return now. I'll head into town since we don't have another hit. Be back in a week." Striker let out a heavy sigh.

"Crap, what am I going to do with you now?" He asked the unconscious female as he made the last cut and caught her in his arms. He tried his best not to jostle her. Striker was happy he'd brought his vehicle with him on the stakeout. So he headed over the side of the mountain to where his car was stashed under all the brush. "Damn, for a little thing. You sure do weigh a lot." Why the hell was he talking to himself? This job was really messing with his mind. After almost tripping on the gravel. an angry growl made it's way out of his chest.

She just had to pick the hottest day in July to go out on a joy ride, didn't she. Once at his car, he maneuvered the female so he could open the door to the back and tried to gently place her inside. He then ran to the trunk and pulled out the rope he had. After cutting down a sapling, he cut two long pieces from it.

He folded the blanket that was on the floor in fourths adding a long stick on either side. This was the best he could do at the moment and with the materials at hand to create a collar so her neck wouldn't move.

...

When they finally reached his hideout, Striker gently carried her inside and laid her on the bed. Crap, he was going to have to take her clothes off so he could check for damage. He could see blood but had no idea where it was coming from. He thanked the powers that be for the little medical training he had as he made his way to the bathroom. There, he filled the bucket with warm soapy water. Then he cut up a towel into thirds.

He then retrieved the first aid box and went back to the bedroom. He once again unsnapped his trusted ankle knife and started to cut into the woman's clothing. "Damn," he whispered as he noticed the seatbelt marks already starting to turn purple. She had some scratches on her face too. Was it from the airbag?

It was then that he remembered she had been wearing sunglasses. They must have scratched upon the deployment of the airbag. It didn't look like she would have any scars. He cleaned up her wounds and then proceeded to her bottom portion. The ankle looked like it was starting to swell, but there was no other sign of blood.

He frowned as he turned her over. It was there that he saw the two pieces of glass embedded in her upper back. He prayed they weren't deep as he prepared the gauze so that he would be able to apply pressure to the wound. The first one wasn't that deep but the second one was. He grabbed the towel and ran to the bathroom to rinse it out.

He needed to make sure it was clean enough so he could clean the wound from any debris that may still be inside. He cursed knowing that if he had to sew her up. She would scar there for sure. He only learned how to do patch-up jobs on the front line. At this point, there was nothing else he could do.

Once he had done what he could. He propped her up sideways so she wouldn't lay on her injured back. It worried him that he had to give her five stitched and she didn't even bat an eye. What the hell had he gotten himself into????