“Dammit, Ethan…”
Raising itself on its hind legs, the jackalope regarded them for a moment, its bloodied nose twitching. Then it turned and hopped away, the other jackalopes following in its wake.
“Thanks,” Ethan breathed, not sure if he was talking to Logan or to the bunnies.
“Don’t mention it,” Logan said gruffly, his breath hot on Ethan’s bare shoulder.
The convict was lying on the forest floor, whimpering and twitching. “I s’pose we’d better call the police,” Ethan said after a moment.
“Yeah,” Logan growled. He didn’t move, unless you counted his hand, which had started to rub in slow circles over Ethan’s chest. What with all the callouses, it was a little like being rubbed down with fine-grade sandpaper. Ethan hoped he wasn’t about to lose a n****e, but couldn’t seem to bring him
