Chapter 7 #2
Only, unlike the other guy, he doesn’t stumble. He grabs my arms with one of his strong hands and pushes me against the wall, bringing my hands over my head. His entire body presses against mine, caging me in. With his body so close, his hardness rubs against my lower stomach.
I freeze, knowing I have no way to run. Nowhere to go.
This man is stronger than I am. He’s like a snake, distracting me with his beauty, only to bite me when I least expect it.
The fear I felt when I was taken is back in full swing.
Ethan is even more of a threat than the one who took me, because when I’m around him, I can’t think.
I become vulnerable. My body breaks out into a cold sweat at this realization.
I thought I could fight, but I never stood a chance.
Ethan gives me a half-smirk as if he can read my mind. Then he leans into me, his cool breath hitting my ear. “Are you going to behave, Angel?”
A chill runs down my spine. “Yes,” I whisper. “Please just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything. I promise.”
“What’s there to tell?”
I shake my head, wondering if I’ve dug myself a bigger hole than I’m already in. My arms are starting to burn where he still has them pinned above my head.
“I asked you a question.” His hold on my wrists tightens, and his grip ignites the pain from the rope burn, causing me to flinch.
“You’re hurting me,” I whimper.
Thankfully, at my words, Ethan yanks down my arms and releases me. “Answer my question. What do you know?” His eyes are ice-cold and demanding. When it’s clear I’m not going to say anything, he says, “Fine, I guess I’ll have to tie you back up.”
There’s no way I’m going to let him do that. I need to fight, and I need to fight hard, so I can get out of here.
As if my brother is with me, I hear him murmur the words he said to me the other night: Live hard. Love harder.
I can’t live and love if I’m trapped here, or killed, or worse, sold to the highest bidder.
I have an entire list of things I want to experience. A life I’ve barely even begun to live.
I only have one option: Fight. Fight, and then run for my life.
Without warning, I drive my elbow into Ethan’s stomach.
My little stunt surprises him, and he stumbles back, giving me enough room to dart past him and run for the open door he came through a few minutes ago.
My heart is thrashing against my chest, and I feel the storm chasing me, but I still have hope.
For a second, I think maybe I’m going to make it.
I’m going to get away. But the thought ends too quickly when Ethan grabs me by my waist and pulls me to him.
My back slams into his hard chest as he drags me back to the spot where he first untied me.
And with every step we take, I lose another slice of hope that I’m going to make it out of this mess.
“I should’ve known you’d end up being a pain in my ass,” he grumbles as he drops onto the couch, bringing me with him into his lap.
“Let go of me!” I scream, afraid he’s going to hurt me the way that other guy did.
My arms flail about trying to slap him. My legs kick wildly, aiming for any part of him I can make contact with. My back is flat against his stomach, and even though I refuse to stop trying to escape, it’s obvious my efforts are futile. Warm tears trail down my cheeks as I slowly accept defeat.
He manages to twist me around until I’m straddling him. In this position, we’re close, too close. I squirm in my spot, wanting to get away, and Ethan grabs my hips, holding me in place.
“Don’t fucking move. I’m done playing with you.” He glares at me harshly. “Jesus, who the hell taught you how to throw an elbow like that?”
My mind shifts back to a memory of my brother moving his couches out of the way to teach me self-defense. No move I was taught would’ve worked against either of these men.
“My brother.”
“Your dirty fucking cop brother?” he spits, making the tiny hairs on the back of my nape rise.
“You know him?” I ask slowly, trying to gauge his reaction.
“Yeah, I knew him. Apparently, God wasn’t with him in his time of need, either.”
Without thinking, I bring my hand up and slap him across the face.
His head snaps to the side, and I take a moment to bask in the fact I’m stronger than I’ve given myself credit for.
A muscle in his jaw ticks, and he swings his fuming gaze back to my petrified one.
A malicious grin appears on his cruel lips, and he latches onto my backside, pulling me closer into his body.
His breath prickles my skin as his teeth scrape my ear. I shudder, my breathing quickening.
“Not a smart move.”
“You deserved it,” I hiss before I can stop myself.
The same muscle in his jaw ticks again, and then I’m being lifted and thrown onto the couch, his strong and hard body pinning me against the soft surface. His large hand wraps around my throat, pressing gently into my skin, the weight of his legs caging me in.
I gasp in panic, trying to catch my next breath. Knowing the man above me is literally holding my life in his hands has my heart beating wildly against my ribcage. The more I struggle, the more Ethan presses his grip to my throat. His cold eyes crashing with mine.
“You have no idea who the fuck I am…” He inhales, the cool air hissing through his clenched teeth, and leans in until his face is inches from my mouth. “If you did, you never would’ve approached me that night.”
A night I’m full on regretting right now.
His fingers loosen and graze my throat lightly. His body is still hard against me. My chest hurts and fear consumes me.
“Ethan, please,” I beg. For what? I don’t even know anymore.
“Don’t think because I know just how sweet your mouth tastes, I’m going to go soft for you.” Unforgiving eyes lock with mine, and my breathing becomes shallow, tears filling my lids once again.
“You need to tell me every single fucking thing that has happened, from the moment my tongue left your mouth in the club, until now,” he commands, releasing me, so I can speak.
I cough a little, but keep my mouth shut, refusing to speak.
The room is spinning, and my head is throbbing.
My vision blurs, and I close my eyes to clear it.
Ethan curses under his breath and stands, walking over to the other side of the room.
I scrub my hands over my face in a pathetic attempt to calm my nerves.
The stress and fear from this entire situation are taking over my body.
I’m scared and nobody is coming to save me.
I thought maybe there was a chance Ethan would help me when he first showed up, but I know now he’s not the hero in this story.
Ethan pulls his phone out of his pocket and hits a button, then brings it up to his ear. His eyes travel back to me, still lying on the couch. He raises a single brow but doesn’t say anything.
This day has gone from bad to downright disastrous, and I haven’t any clue what to do to get myself home. A home I might never see again. I close my eyes, trying to steady myself. I need to make it through this, whatever it takes. I’ll never stop fighting, but first, I need to calm down.
“Where the hell are you, Logan?” Ethan yells into the phone. His tone is different with the guy on the phone—if possible it’s even more menacing. I briefly wonder if Logan is the name of the man who took me.
Feeling like it’s probably best to be on my guard, I sit up and turn toward Ethan and the door. My head is still disoriented, and the thumping in my temples is only increasing. Ethan glares at me while listening to whatever that Logan guy is saying.
“You didn’t handle shit. I’m staring at your fuck up right now. You need to get your ass to your house.”
Ethan hits a button on his phone and places it back in his pocket then walks over to the corner of the room, where bottles of dark liquid stand next to several glasses on a table.
He fills one glass to the brim and the other only halfway.
He returns to me and places the half-filled glass on a table beside me.
Then he takes a long sip from his own glass, glaring at me over the rim.
“It will help you relax.”
“I don’t want to relax. I want to go home.”
I break eye contact with him and stare at the glass with the dark liquid.
I know it’s liquor of some kind. Truth be told, I don’t really like to drink.
The fruity drinks on my birthday were delicious, but that liquid encouragement led me to Ethan, only proving that drinking doesn’t lead to anything good.
If I make it through this, I will never drink again.
Sitting taller and ignoring the drink in front of me, I say, “So…what’s going to happen?”
Ethan clenches his jaw, swirling his drink in his hand. “I gave you the opportunity to speak earlier, but instead you wanted to act like some feisty little ninja. Now I’m done talking.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’m just really scared. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
His laughter booms through the room, bouncing off the walls. “You could never hurt me. I would never give you that power.”
“But—”
“No more talking.” Ethan tosses his head back, swallowing the last of his drink in one gulp. He licks the flavor from his lips and then carefully places his glass next to my untouched one, eyeing it with curiosity.
“I apologize there are no blueberry martinis here.”
Blueberry martinis? Oh! My drink of choice at the club. “How do you know what I was drinking at the club?”
Ethan sighs, tension tightening around his eyes.
He slides next to me, his body so close to mine, the warmth from him radiates into me.
Reaching across me, he picks up my untouched glass and drinks it in one swallow.
For a few minutes we sit next to each other in silence.
I feel him staring at me, but I don’t look his way.
The front door slams shut and I jump, my body bumping into his.
He glances at me, clearly unaffected by the loud noise.