The Alpha's Captive Book 1 - Taken (Chapter Five, page 1 of 7)

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"What the actual hell, lady!" Levi's eyes went wide when he saw her pull the blunt end of the double-action-only .38 special from her purse and level it at him.

"Pull over," Harper said, permitting herself a small thrill of satisfaction at his reaction. The bastard had tried to take her Baby. He deserved anything that happened to that pretty face.

"You were headed into Maryland," he sputtered. "That's not even legal, there!"

"I used my mom's address," she said, shrugging. "I live alone in Baltimore. The cops there don't even care if you're raped, as long as they can convince you not to report it. So I got a gun. And I'm from the sticks in Pennsylvania, so I've been shooting tin cans off a fence since I was five years old and I got my brother's hand-me-down BB gun. You better believe that I'm not going to miss you from two feet away."

Those delicious amber eyes narrowed. "I didn't have to stop and let you in, you crazy bitch."

"But you did," she pointed out. "And now I've got a gun."

She probably shouldn't be enjoying this so much. After all, the guy had just stolen her car, so he might be dangerous. But he had left behind his bike, so technically speaking, he'd given her more than he'd taken, at least dollar-wise. If the motorcycle really was his.

"So do I."

Oh, that was honest, at least. Interesting.

"I know. I saw the bulge." She grinned to let him know the double meaning was intentional. "But yours isn't drawn."

Levi looked at her narrowly, as if he were considering something, then turned his eyes back to the road. He didn't slow down. "So what if I don't pull over?"

"I'll shoot you." She wasn't bluffing. There was no way in hell she was going to let him keep Baby, even if he was hot enough to melt her panties.

"You might not mind putting a hole in me, but what about your car? Blood will definitely leave a mark on the carpet."

She laughed. "You aren't seriously trying to bargain with me after stealing my car, are you?"

"I would have given it back," he said.

"Really?" she scoffed.

He lifted one shoulder in a kind of half-shrug. "Well, no, but I would have left it where someone could find it, and it might have eventually gotten back to you."

Harper was getting tired of his backtalk. "Pull over."

With exaggerated care, he slid his hand around the steering wheel to flick the turn signal on, then eased onto the brake, his other hand palm-out in a defensive motion as he moved it to the gear shift.

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