Untethered

5 | Sleepover

"Hey!" Emma's outraged voice rang down the normally quiet street as she took off, barreling toward the moving-van. She could still see a dark figure inside the back end, and his head jerked up as she bore down on him. The screen door banged shut as Greta stepped outside, and Ryan's voice rose amidst Layla's barking, but she didn't hear them. Even the spontaneous and unexpected kiss they had shared was completely forgotten. All her focus was on the dark figure in the shadows of that van.

She was a few hundred yards away when she was nearly tackled sideways; two huge arms like giant boa constrictors snaked around her to keep her from falling, but also prevented her from moving toward her target, knocking the air out of her lungs in the process.

The shadowy figure in the back of the truck took that opportunity to jump down, and race up the street, quickly sliding in the open driver's door of a silver car, before slamming it shut, and careening down the street past them.

"Argh!" she growled, incensed, and wrestled against the pair of muscled restraints, "What the hell are you doing? He got away!" She wriggled and squirmed, kicking out viciously.

Ryan released her and spun her around to face him after the car sped past them.

"What were you thinking? That guy could've had a knife or a gun... My God, are you completely insane? What the hell would you have done even if you did catch him?" He loomed over her, gaping like she'd suddenly sprouted a second head and started speaking some alien language. Emma tried to hold on to her indignance, but the dangerousness of the situation was starting to override the adrenaline rush.

"I... I don't know..." she shivered, "I just... I saw him in the truck and..." her voice cracked, "It's all I have left of her. She's already been taken from me; I couldn't let some bastard take what little I have left." Hot tears scalded her eyes.

Instantly, she was engulfed in his arms again, only this time they weren't for the purpose of imprisoning her, and she submitted to the embrace slightly grudgingly.

"I'm sorry... It's okay, Em, I understand," he murmured, though he was still quietly considering the question of her sanity.

He held her gently, resting his chin on the top of her head, his eyes closed. The tension in his body was only evident in the way his hands flexed open and closed, as if he could force the pent up adrenaline out through them.

When he saw her take off, leaving him holding Layla's leash—he took a ragged breath—it scared him. His heart was still thundering a furious tattoo against his breastbone, refusing to resume a normal beat after nearly lurching free of his chest.

I mean it's just basic human decency to prevent her from getting herself killed, right? It was, but it felt like more than just concern for his fellow human being. More than he had felt for any woman, that was for sure. His Ma was the gold-standard, and he had never found one that measured up.

Now you sound like a mama's boy, he snorted derisively. With Emma though... he could see the fire in her, and it appealed to him. Could be why it's always so fun to tease her. I mean, maybe she doesn't have the sense God gave a rabid squirrel sometimes, but at least she's passionate. He chuckled to himself, and his inner musings were cut short when he realized Emma was squinting up at him curiously. It dawned on him that he had actually laughed out loud.

"I don't see what's so funny," she narrowed her eyes further.

He opened his mouth to try to come up with an explanation when he was mercifully interrupted.

Neither one of them had noticed Greta come outside during the commotion. She had actually been present much longer than they could guess, but her attention was not on them at the time. It was on the driver of the car that had shot down the road like a wild horse making a break for freedom. Something nagged at the back of her mind, and she couldn't shake it. Her eyes drifted to the couple in the middle of the road, and she cleared her throat loudly.