Chapter 2
LAUREL
Seth didn’t speak until the elevator doors closed, sealing us in together. He stood closer this time. To the casual observer we might have appeared to be a couple. They probably wouldn’t have noticed how rapidly I was breathing or know how fast my heart raced.
“I’m sorry if I came on too strong,” he said.
The air around us was thick and suffocating.
“It’s fine,” I lied.
As we reached our floor, his hand again settled in the hollow of my back, and he used it to guide me through the doors like he was a gentleman. But his touch made me flinch, and the look he gave me now said he was anything but a gentleman.
It was a thousand doors to the end of the hall. I made it three-fourths of the way before he curled his fingers around my wrist.
“What’s the hurry, darling?”
Because I’d practically sprinted to get away from him. His grip forced me to turn and gaze up at him. His expression was devilish. Indecent. It hinted at the things he wanted to do to me . . . and that?
It made my heart jerk to a stop.
He didn’t seem to notice. He slid his free hand up to cradle my face and pulled me in until he could seal his lips over mine.
My whole body went rigid under his kiss. He was an attractive man, but there was zero desire in my system right now. Couldn’t he sense that? When I didn’t answer his kiss, he raised his head and, for a fleeting moment, he looked off-balance.
“Don’t you want to have some fun?” he asked, not releasing me.
My tone was firm. “No, thank you.”
This wasn’t the answer he expected, and I used his confusion to squirm out of his hold and start for my room, my fingers fumbling in my purse for my keycard.
“Why? You don’t like fun?”
His voice was harsh and right behind me because he’d kept up with me, passing by his own room. My pulse beat a furious tempo while everything inside me screamed I needed to get away from him and into the safety of my room.
“No,” I said. “Good night.”
As soon as the flashing green light signaled my door was unlocked, I reached for the handle, but he beat me to it. He pushed it down, shoved me inside the darkness, and kicked the door closed behind him with a heavy slam.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I cried as he flicked on the lights.
“Open that door.” He pointed to the adjoining one that connected our rooms.
I didn’t move. “Why?”
“Because this would have been easier if we’d gone to my room.”
My breath came and went in short bursts. “No. Get out.”
His piercing blue eyes blinked slowly, and when I didn’t do as he’d commanded, he did it himself. The door to his room was open, as if he’d prepared for this. The thought made me shiver.
“You’re going to go in there and sit on the bed.” His tone was icy, detached. “And we’re going to have a conversation.”
His large frame blocked the door that led out into the hall, and I was sure I’d never make it past him. But I could run through his room, and there was a chance I could escape out the main door before he could stop me.
“Do as you’re told, Laurel. Or I’ll make you.”
Well, that was all I needed to hear.
I charged through the now open doorway, barreling into his room—but he moved so fucking fast, it almost seemed inhuman.
Seth’s arm hooked around my waist, knocking me off my feet before I was flung backward.
I sailed through the air, landed onto the bed, and skidded to a stop, narrowly missing the black case that lurked there.
I scrambled across the slippery comforter to bolt again for the door, but he towered over me.
“Stay,” he ordered.
When his lips peeled back an evil smile, it turned my skin to ice. For a long, tense moment, the world ceased moving.
Finally, he flung a finger at the black lockbox beside me. “What do you think is inside?”
On the outside I was stone, but my head buzzed with panic. There was no doubt I wouldn’t like it.
He didn’t wait for an answer. He bent and stabbed in the code, unleashing an electronic ping as the internal mechanism disengaged. The lid was lifted to expose blue felt that sheathed black metal.
He retrieved the sleek, deadly looking gun and gripped it with haunting familiarity. My throat closed, blocking my airway as the room shifted and swayed. He used the barrel to flip the lid shut on the case and sank to sit beside me on the bed, as if we were friends, or worse—lovers.
“It’s going to be all right,” he said, yet it sounded all wrong. His southern accent had vanished. “I need to know exactly what you saw in the theater, and what you told the FBI.”
He didn’t threaten or even lift the weapon toward me. Instead, he simply let it rest in his lap with his finger nestled on the trigger. It made his words a challenge to understand.
My voice was whisper quiet. “I didn’t see anything.”
He jammed the tip of his gun into the muscle just above my kneecap. I swallowed a moan, trying not to reveal the shock and pain.
“I’ll put a bullet here.” His tone was matter of fact. “Think about what that would do to you.”
Of course he’d choose that spot. A wound there wouldn’t just hurt like hell, it would end my career. The pressure of his gun made me clench my teeth, so I had to bite out my words. “I didn’t have anything to tell them.”
“You looked right at me.” He didn’t let up on the gun.
“The theater was dark and there was a light behind you. All I saw was the man dying.”
Did he believe me? His expression seemed to say so, but his intense eyes were cautious. The gun returned to rest on his lap, which gave me relief, but only for a sliver of a moment.
I hadn’t seen his face in the theater, but I certainly had now. My voice quavered. “I won’t tell anyone about this.”
He sighed. “No, you won’t.”
My heart slammed inside my body, and everything went cold. If I screamed, it might bring help, but probably not in time. My gaze was fixed on the black metal and his finger perched on the trigger. The last thing I needed to do was make him angry.
“You should know,” he said, “I’d planned to take another shot and finish him when I realized he was still alive, but then you got in the way. You weren’t worried about getting shot?”
“Not as much as I am now,” I blurted. His eyebrow arched, demanding a real answer. “He was dying.”
“It’s not often I have to kill a woman in my line of work.” His face was serious and haunting. “And certainly not a woman who looks like you.”
My mind refused to comprehend what he meant. I didn’t move, didn’t blink, or breathe. Was it the same for him? His eyes churned with distrust and confusion.
“I’m sorry I can’t let you live,” he said finally, his voice uneven. “Stand up.”
I sat on the bed, defiant. “No.”
“No?” he mocked.
I actively avoided confrontation. I had no problem paying more than my share on a dinner bill if it would save me an uncomfortable conversation with a friend.
Yet once, in sixth grade, I’d been cornered on the bus by an eighth-grade bully, a situation deemed dangerous enough at the time to activate my fight-or-flight response.
Which, as it turned out, had been pure fight.
I didn’t bother to plead or beg for my life. If he was going to take it, couldn’t I at least have it be on my terms? His free hand clamped down on my arm, hauling me up, and his fingers dug into my bicep painfully.
“People don’t say no to me. You’ll do as I say.”
“Or what?” The bitter words burned in my mouth. “You can’t threaten to kill me since that’s what you’re going to do anyway.”
“I can do other things to you first.” His face changed into that of a monster. “Things I might like, but you definitely wouldn’t.”
My whole body shuddered under his powerful grip.
“I’m just starting to like you. You don’t have to die right now,” he said. “Maybe we can have some fun together.”
I choked back reminding him that I’d already said I didn’t like fun.
“It might give you an opportunity to escape.” He added it like a cruel joke, patronizing. “What do you say, Laurel? Do you want to die now?”
Like that was a choice. “No, I’d prefer not to.”
A horrifying, pleased smile spread across his face. “Good.”
Even after his painful fingers peeled away from my arm, I felt the burn of them on my skin. He went on the move, stalking across the room with purpose. There was a laptop bag resting on the dresser that he snatched up and thrust toward me.
“We’re taking the elevator down to the parking garage,” he announced. “Both hands stay on the bag.” He tucked the gun into the back of his waistband, concealing it beneath his suit jacket. “And my hand stays on you.” His expression alluded to dark consequences if I disobeyed. “Do you understand?”
He was going to walk me down the hall and onto the elevator? Presented with that many opportunities for escape, I was willing to go along with this plan. I eked out a nod.
Moments later, we were out the door and marching toward the elevators.
I silently pleaded for guests to open their doors, for someone to help me, but it was the dead of night, and the hallway was a tomb. When the elevator doors parted, my disappointment was sharp. The car was empty.
I didn’t fight my captor as I was dragged inside. I said nothing as he slapped the button for the parking garage, but when his hand returned to my elbow, I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to cut him off, to drown him out.
It backfired because a flashback of Seth’s lips on mine sliced through my mind.
I gripped the briefcase so tightly my knuckles turned white and made my hands ache. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I don’t know.”
It sounded honest, at least, but a shiver wracked my body. A dull chime rang out, announcing we’d arrived. I didn’t think I could be any colder until the doors opened and I was forced into the frigid January air without a coat.
Like the hotel, the parking garage was devoid of people. He hauled me along, staying close to one wall. When I began to drift, he yanked me roughly back up against his body.
“I’m not photogenic.” He motioned to the security camera tucked discreetly in the corner.