The Relic Runner Origin Story Box Set by Ernest Dempsey (non fiction books to read TXT) 📕

and an old pickup truck. The lights inside the bar flickered off as the other two started their engines and pulled out of the lot.

Dak refocused his attention on the entrance. He didn't have to wait long for what he feared. Tanya emerged through the front door with a set of keys in one hand and a paper cup in another. She locked the door and spun around nonchalantly, waving to Merrick and the bartender as they drove off.

She took a sip from a red straw and made her way down the steps, veering toward a black Toyota Land Cruiser at the back of the lot near the road.

It was a twenty-five yard walk to her car. Dak was somewhere between, with the threat behind her.

He remained low and out of sight until he saw the headlights of the Explorer turn on, their beams shining brightly through the lot. The engine roared a second later, followed by tires scratching against the lot, kicking gravel and dust out behind them.

Tripp wheeled the SUV around, nearly sliding sideways in the process, and steered the vehicle straight at Tanya. All she could do was turn her head into the blinding light of the oncoming threat.

Seven

Cuchara

Tanya cringed as the SUV ground to a halt. Clouds of gravel dust plumed out from the tires and billowed dramatically in front of the headlights. The high beams seared her eyes, and she put up her left hand to shield them from the blinding light. She stepped back, shifting away from the focus of the headlights, and lowered her hand, peering into the cab as the doors slammed shut.

She swore under her breath. "Tripp, you idiot. What are you doing? You could have hit me."

Tripp sauntered toward her as the sound of two more doors slamming shut accompanied his approach. His shoulders slumped a little and his legs wobbled. "Idiot? That's not a nice thing to say, Tanya."

"You're drunk, Tripp. You need to call a cab."

"I'm not calling anyone. And I'm not drunk." He stepped toward her. Lust oozed from the devil's gaze that filled his eyes. His friends, John and Steve, loomed a few feet away to her left, just out of the headlights' glow, their eyes locked on her.

"Fine," she said nervously. "Suit yourself. Drive home if you want to, but I don't think your daddy will appreciate that."

He surged forward in an instant and grabbed her arm. Gripping it tightly, he glowered at her, his eyes rampant with alcohol-fueled desire.

"Let me go, Tripp," Tanya demanded. There was no hiding the fear in her voice. "You're hurting me."

"You should have been nicer to me," he said, spittle flying with each word. "But no worries. I always get what I want in the end."

He grabbed her other arm even as she tried to wrestle free. His grip was too strong and she couldn't get loose, so she did the only thing she knew how to do. Tanya kicked as hard as she could with her knee, driving it deep into his groin.

Tripp's eyes bulged, and he doubled over, groaning in agony. His fingers let go of her arms and went to his wounded area as he dropped to his knees.

He let out a string of obscenities. More than a few of the adjectives described her in a less than complimentary way.

Tanya turned and started to run toward her truck.

"Get her," Tripp ordered, his voice still lathered in nauseating pain.

His cronies jumped at the command and took off after her. Tanya barely reached the truck in time. She fumbled with the keys in her panic, seeming to take minutes to get the one to her vehicle. As she inserted the correct key into the door, she felt four hands grab her by the shoulders and arms.

"Where you think you're going?" Steve said, his thick digits digging deep into her skin.

"No!" Tanya shrieked. "Let me go! Stop it!"

Tripp had recovered—mostly—and made his way toward her as his friends held her on both sides. She struggled as best she could, like a wild animal wriggling and jerking around to get free. Tripp was still hunched over as he stalked toward her, one hand over his groin, signaling the pain was still racking him.

He stopped a few feet short of her and shook his head, looking into her eyes with disgust. "That was stupid," he said. He slapped her across the face with the back of his hand.

The cheek reddened almost instantly, though barely noticeable in the dimly lit parking lot.

"I was going to let you know what it felt like to be with a real man. You would have liked it. But now?" He shook his head. "Now I'm going to make sure you don't."

"No," she said, pleading with her eyes. "Tripp, don't do this. You're drunk. You can't do this."

"I can," he said. "My dad is the sheriff. I can do whatever I want."

Her head twisted back and forth. "No. Please."

"That's good," he said. "Keep begging. That'll make it even more fun." He looked at John. "Open up the back of her truck."

"No!" she shouted. "Please, someone! Help me!"

John took the keys out of the door where they still hung and walked around to the back of the SUV.

"You can't do this," Tanya went on. "I will press charges, Tripp. I'll tell everyone about this."

He shuffled closer as she struggled against Steve's strong grip. He reached up with a finger and touched her chin. She snapped her head away, unwilling to look into his eyes another second.

"Well, I guess it would be your word against ours now, wouldn't it? I mean, me and the boys left the bar a long time ago. Everyone saw that. After we took off, we decided to head over to Tyler's place and hang out. I'm sure Tyler will vouch for that."

"No," she tried to deny it. "You can't get away with this."

He ignored her. "I'm sure you'd try to tell someone what happened. So I guess we're just going to have to make sure