Chapter 5
Chapter Five
ELIZABETH
The pounding on my apartment door makes me drop my guitar pick. I had taken my acoustic guitar out of its case and was practicing chords to loosen my fingers. Wasting time instead of unpacking, thinking about today, thinking about that guy, Ryder, and my memory of him.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
“Elizabeth!” a man’s voice shouts my name. “Liz, open this fucking door right now!”
An angry man.
Each pound against the thick wood is like a shotgun blast. My body jerks at every blow.
Pound. Pound. Pound.
Like nails being hammered into my bones.
A second later, the front door flies open, and a very large, very muscular, very dangerous-looking man enters. His wild eyes lock on me, and I scream.
Before I’m able to scramble off the sofa, the man is on me, his arms banding around me so tightly, I can’t breathe.
“Jesus, baby. It’s really you.”
His mouth crashes onto mine, and I try to pull away, turn my head, escape this madman. He’s too strong. The crazy man grabs my face and forces me to look at him. Silver eyes. Not my nightmare eyes. Not Ryder’s eyes.
“Let me go, asshole! Get your hands off me!” I shout, struggling with all my might to get away.
I’m hoping one of my neighbors will hear me yelling and call the police. If only I could get to my phone, but I left it to charge in my bedroom.
“Princess, it’s really you,” he says, kissing me again, his hands cupping my ass and lifting me to my toes.
The shock of his sudden intrusion finally wears off. I bite his tongue. Hard. The metallic taste of blood coats my lips. I bring my knee up, and it’s like hitting granite. Fuck! That hurt. I was aiming for his groin but kneed him in his thigh instead.
His hand touches his mouth, wiping a dribble of blood from his bottom lip. “Liz, what the hell’s wrong with you?”
After months of PT, once I was strong enough, Daniel and Drew insisted I take self-defense classes. It’s hard to recall the things I learned. What am I supposed to do? Stomp down on his foot, or kick his knee out?
Going on instinct and adrenaline, I curl my hand into a loose fist and strike. Either this guy saw it coming or his reflexes are lightning quick. He dodges my right fist aimed for his nose but doesn’t see my left open palm fly upward under his chin.
While he’s momentarily stunned, I run for the front door…and slam into a wall of hard muscle.
Ryder .
I promised myself I wouldn’t run the next time I saw him, but I never expected to literally run right into him.
Without thinking, I jump into his arms and hold on, some innate instinct telling me that he’ll protect me and keep me safe.
“Help me.”