Indian Desi Cleavage - 9

Shaking and scared I tried to think. The man rode up and asked what I thought I was doing. I broke into tears, he jumped off his horse and asked who I was and what I was doing and where my clothes were. Scared I broke down and cried, he took off his shirt and covered me then put me on his horse. We rode to his house which was a mile in the other direction. When we went inside he handed me a towel to wrap myself up in. I told him about going swimming in the creek and my bike and clothes stolen, he gave me something to drink and asked where I live. I told him, then asked for my phone number so he could call my mom. He left the room and was gone for a minute, he came back and said there was no answer. He asked if I was hungry and I said yes, he fixed me a sandwich and some chips. After eating he told me to go to the living room and watch tv while he tried calling again. It was getting dark and I knew I was in trouble, he came in and said good news and bad news, I got a hold of your. It was clear in the tense set of his shoulders, from how he’d planted his feet—and the balled, white-knuckled fist he’d made his with left hand was a dead giveaway about the fury coursing through him. As she stared at his back, waiting for a reaction, for him to speak—for him to do something—she traded an anxious glance with Sam who, true to his born-rescuer instincts, ran a hand through his hair and took a cautious step toward Jason’s tense form. ‘Look…Jay…’ he started, only to come up short when, finally, Jason swung around, his burning golden gaze skidding across Sam, to land on Anna, who felt pinned in place by his barely leashed temper. ‘Leave,’ Jason ground out, his unflinching gaze boring into Anna, even though it was obvious he was talking to Sam. Caught between them, Sam cast another worried look in Anna’s direction, then held up both hands toward Jason in a placating gesture. ‘Look,’ he repeated, ‘I don’t think this is the—’ ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think,’ Jason bit.
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