5. Lily
5
LILY
I can’t stop shards of pure, unadulterated fear from embedding themselves in my chest when Alex steps out of the bathroom naked. One by one. Stab after stab. Cut after cut. Terror floods me, slices me, strains my nerves, until I’m coiled so tight that I’m scared I’ll shatter if Alex so much as looks at me.
My memories are too raw. Each heartbeat causes a new surge of the poison he infected me with. My skin is coated with his filth, dirty to touch, contagious to anyone who gets too close. The ache between my legs from his vicious fingers is impossible to ignore.
The one thing keeping me sane is the knowledge that Zeke is here.
Somewhere.
It settles me as much as it fills me with dread.
Because I know that Zeke’s presence has also made things worse for me. His potential rescue, coming in five minutes or in an hour’s time, isn’t going to save me from Alex’s wrath now .
I can feel the anger vibrating from him, growing more palpable by the second, as he stands over me where I lay curled in a ball on the bed. When I look up at him, I discover that there’s murder in Alex’s eyes. It chills me to the bone. My death. Reflected back at me in the evil gaze of a monster who’s already come close to killing me once before.
During his shower, he worked himself into a frenzy.
“He’s here for you, metukà shelì . To take you from me.”
I flinch when he butchers the pronunciation of Zeke’s pet name for me. Alex prides himself on his perfection, so willingly exposing that he can’t speak flawless Hebrew is enough to chill me to the core. It’s another indication that he’s about to lose control. A sign. A challenge to me. A vow that he’s going to make me pay for what he sees as my betrayal.
The man that I dated for a hot minute when I was seventeen is going to blow in the next few minutes.
“He’s a dead man walking.” Alex drags his thumb over the scar that runs the width of his neck, drawing my attention to it. Once he sees that I’m looking, he touches the corner of his mouth where the remnants of Zeke’s underworld calling card have been lessened by plastic surgery. “I won’t toy with him like he did me.”
When I was examining him earlier, he was dressed. The collar of his shirt hid the jagged line on his neck, just like his clothes concealed the other marks he bears from the night he tried to kill me. Wide eyed, I catalogue the scars he has. I stabbed him. Shot him. Zeke beat him. The slash across his throat must’ve happened later.
Seeing his damage buoys me.
I am not as powerless as my traumatised mind would like me to believe.
I’ve made Alex bleed before.
I can do it again.
“Should I end his futile existence in front of you, angel?” Alex asks as he advances on me. “Would the sight of life leaving his eyes be enough for you to understand how serious I am about you? I love you… once he’s gone, you’ll learn to love me.”
And so it begins…
The verbal warfare that precedes Alex’s sadism.
He prefers to strip me of my mental defences before he comes after me physically.
“Please.” I push up onto my knees. Every movement hurts. Further drains my aching body of energy. Makes my head spin. Tunnels my vision to a pinpoint. Sends tremors down my spine. Even so, I persist, shuffling closer to Alex and grabbing his wrist. “Don’t hurt him. Just let him leave.”
“Leave?”
“Yes. If your men make him believe that I’m not here, he’ll leave.”
Alex shakes free of my grip. “He knows you’re here.”
Hope blooms in my chest, warming me, soothing me. I push it down because it’s dangerous. Alex is too unpredictable. Too confident. Too sure in his pronouncement of Zeke as a “dead man walking” for Hugh and the other men still at the house to not have the upper hand.
“If you let him go, I’ll do anything you want.”
As much as my mind and body rebels, I know that offering my submission is the only way to save Zeke. Deference is my sole bargaining chip. I know what Alex wants from me—what he’s always wanted from me. He craves control. Over me. Over my body. Over the power he thinks being with me will bring.
Over five years ago, I used him for my own childish reasons and it blew up in my face.
I didn’t know then that Alex lives to hunt.
I didn’t know this until after I’d become his prey.
My refusal to be his girlfriend drove him mad. My manipulations goaded his malevolence. My fight fed his obsession. My overconfidence almost cost me my life. The night he snapped and attempted to take what I’d denied him, I stabbed him. Shot him when he still wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I made Alex bleed to avoid the fate I’m now offering to him.
I’m going to give him what he thinks he wants.
Compliance.
I’ll lull him into a false sense of security.
Save Zeke.
Then end this craziness between us once and for all.
Alex bends down to roughly scoop me from the mattress. His jerky movements and harsh handling make me whimper in pain, and he shushes me as he sits in the rocking chair and holds me on his lap. He tries to disguise his rage, pushing my hair off my face as he croons, “You’re nowhere near as smart as I think you are if you believe that I’m going to allow you to set the terms. I’m in charge—he’s going to die and you’re staying with me.”
“Alex, you need to listen?—”
As usual, I get nowhere with him. He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say. His irrational hatred for Zeke is in control, and that never bodes well for me.
Alex has always had zero tolerance for my affection for Zeke.
It was never his right to feel that way since I’d made it clear from the beginning that I wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend. That didn’t stop Alex from making demands anyway… and for my guilt to talk me into cutting him slack that he didn’t deserve.
Because, back when I was seventeen, I did a horrible thing.
I allowed my best friend to talk me into using Alex to make Zeke jealous. It was a stupid plan, a callous offence, a na?ve scheme. It was wrong and I shouldn’t have done it. But I wanted the man I fell in love with as a fourteen-year-old to look at me like a woman.
And I thought jealousy was the way to make Zeke see me…
Except I underestimated Alex.
I was oblivious to the truth surrounding me.
Deliberately so.
Unaware that Alex was obsessed with control.
Ignorant of the situation between Alex and my twin.
Unknowing of the consequences that my dalliance with a member of an enemy organisation would set in motion.
While I spent the entire six weeks that we dated feeling bad for using him, Alex spent that time learning my weaknesses. He had a plan, my father’s approval, and an army at his back if I refused. And he set all three in motion on the night of mine and Sander’s eighteenth birthday.
Fooled by my vow to my dead mother that I would protect my brothers at all costs, Alex used my ignorance of the underworld, my misplaced guilt, and my overconfidence to snare me in his net.
If not for Sander’s twintuition, and Zeke and Slash’s quick thinking, I would’ve died on my eighteenth birthday. It’s only fitting that I repay the favour today and save Zeke from that same fate.
“Tell me what it’ll take?” I plead.
“ Lily ,” Alex croons the nickname he knows I hate him using. “You must understand that there’s only one way to salvage our relationship. I’ll need to bleed you, cleanse you, eradicate the stain he’s left on you—replace the filth he’s filled you with—with my own essence. Can you give me that?”
I shudder.
Alex’s insinuation is clear.
He wants to fuck me.
Viciously.
“Okay,” I whisper. Bile rises in my throat as my body has a physical reaction to the memories his words evoke. My heart pounds in my ears. My eyes burn. I blink and tears run free. Every hair on my body stands on end, my nerves jangle as my mind screams at me to change my mind. “Just let Zeke leave, and I’ll do whatever you want.”
Horror courses through me when the muted bang of a gunshot rings out.
“All new beginnings.” Alex smiles. “Come from an old beginning’s end.”
“But you said…” I trail off when I realise that I’m too late. Alex had no intention of making a deal with me. “He isn’t… Not Zeke.”
“Boss.” A tinny voice invades the bedroom. I look around, trying to discover where the intercom system is hidden. “We have a problem.”
“Stay put, angel.” Alex stands and places me on the bed. While he pulls on a pair of pants and a shirt, I hug my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth as my mind tries to reject the knowledge that Zeke is gone. “I’ll be right back.”
As I contemplate the future, I realise that there’s no way I will survive having Alex destroy my body again. I barely survived his brutality last time. Without the promise of Zeke’s freedom to shield me, without my first love full stop, I’d rather die anyhow. Slash will try to make me see how illogical that idea is, since my end would be the last thing Zeke would want. Nadia will never forgive me. Sander will blame himself.
It’s still the truth.
I am nothing without Zeke.
Lost in grief, I’m slow to react when Alex leers over me. He winds his fingers through my hair and yanks my head backward. Leaning down, he runs his tongue beneath my eye, licking the tears from my cheek. I feel the muzzle of a gun being pressed to the underside of my jaw.
I freeze.
Alex swipes his tongue over my other cheek.
“Are these for him?” I stay silent, unblinking as I will my tears to cease falling. Alex feeds on other’s pain, I won’t give him any more than I have to. “I suppose you’ll think it’s a win when I tell you that your biker trash shot Hugh and?—”
“Zeke’s alive?”
The hope-tinged disbelief in my voice is clear to my ears.
I know voicing my question was a mistake seconds before his backhand knocks my head to one side. He hit me with the hand holding the gun. My ear rings like a wind chime and the eyebrow that absorbed the blow splits. Prodding the cut with my fingers, I hiss at the sting.
Looks like I’m going to have another scar.
Another reminder of his impact on my life.
“Unrepentant Jezebel.” Alex’s insult barely registers, but the pile of material that hits me full in the face does. “Put these on. We’re leaving.”
Tossing the clothing onto the floor, I cup the throbbing side of my face, then push myself into a sitting position. After furiously dashing away the blood that runs down my cheek, I ignore the sting as I rearrange my lips into the kind of smile that once worked on him.
It’s sweet.
Beguiling.
Coated with invisible venom.
“I’ll submit to you if you promise me three things?—”
“Only three things?”
Alex’s expression is grim as he turns his attention away from the bag that he’s packing to focus on me, and I realise my plan has worked. I’ve distracted him. Bought myself a few more minutes in this location.
Will it be enough time for Zeke to rally the Shamrocks?
“I don’t need to compromise with you,” Alex chides. He drops the gun on top of the bag, takes hold of my shoulders, his fingertips bite into my flesh, and he shakes me. “I hold all the cards. You’ll commit because you’re smart enough to realise that I’m right.”
My temper flares in the face of his stupidity.
Without thinking, I laugh at him.
How come he never learns?
“You’re confusing commit with submit once again.” The glare I give him could strip paint, yet Alex remains impervious. “You can get me to submit to you with the cards you’re holding— maybe . I mean, it didn’t work all that well for you last time... but you’ll never be able to get me to commit to you. I’ll always be looking for a way to escape.”
“You’ve changed, Lily,” Alex mumbles as he turns back to the bag. If I didn’t know that he was a sociopath, I’d assume I’d offended him. Before he can recommence packing, I laugh, and the sound has him spinning back around to face me. “You’ve always challenged me like nobody else, but never to this extent. You’re starting to push it too far. What the hell happened to you?”
His disingenuous question is the straw that breaks my fragile hold on sanity.
What happened to me?
Alexander Kingsley is what happened to me.
Rather than Alex lashing out at me like I’d planned, I’m the one who sees red. I start screaming insults. I’m not sure what I say, my mind is past the point of filtering my words, but I am aware that I’ve slapped him three times before he can even begin to subdue me. As alarm bells ring in my head, I hear myself make the biggest mistake I can right now. I wave a hand down my body, and I admit to the evilest man I’ve ever met, the one thing I know will set him off. “You broke me. What you see now… is how I was rebuilt by…”
Zeke’s name dies on my lips when Alex knocks me onto my back and pins me to the mattress with his body. Immediately, my PTSD is triggered and my panic response flickers to life. I slap him across the face and push at his chest, determined to free myself. When I rake my nails down his cheek, he wraps both hands around my throat.
“ Fuck . Stop it, you little whore.”
Ignoring his curse, I try to punch him. He grabs my arms and pins them with his legs. When his hands return to my throat, I buck beneath him and roll from side to side. Alex absorbs my rage with ease, but I’m too far gone in my head to heed the danger. Adrenaline fuels me. Fear controls me.
My body vibrates with the need to get away from him.
My brain screams at me that capitulation means death.
Alex is unstoppable.
I am uncontrollable.
He shoves me deeper into the mattress and punches me in the face as hard as he can.
I see stars.
I see streaks of light as my vision tunnels to a pinpoint.
I feel the return of an old, familiar nemesis.
Pain.
Then, I feel nothing…
When I come to, I have one blissful moment where I think the hands stroking my face are Zeke’s. That thought dies when I inhale, and Alex’s cologne overwhelms me. Once upon a time, I enjoyed that scent, now it just makes me sick because I know that it’s a trick. An expensive fragrance that disguises a monster with a warped version of love that will either kill me or add to the scars I’ve already got.
Because I’m not with Zeke.
I’m not home.
I’m not safe.
I’m on my own.
Zeke-less and trapped with my nightmare.
“Open your eyes, angel.” A warm finger strokes up and down my nose. “We need to talk and then we need to leave.”
My stomach recoils at his repulsive touch. I try to push him off me, but my arm pulls tight. Trying my other arm, I discover both of them are secured in this position. When I peer above me, I find my hands have been handcuffed to the middle bar of the antique wrought iron bed frame. On my left hand sits the commitment ring Alex tried to give me when I was seventeen. He’s clasped the matching tennis bracelet, an unwanted gift from my eighteenth birthday, around my right wrist and added a necklace to the set.
While I was unconscious, he systematically stripped me of my identity and adorned me in the jewels he once tried to use to brand me as Maddison clan property.
I thought I was being mature when I mailed the jewellery back to his mother upon my release from hospital. Turns out, I was giving Alex another weapon to use against me when he returned to exact his revenge. If I knew I’d end up wearing them once more, I would’ve flushed them down the toilet. At least then I wouldn’t be lying here, handcuffed to a bed, draped in ugly jewels, while a madman attempts to negotiate with me.
Alex kisses my forehead. “We’re running out of time… so if you want to reach a deal, then you need to talk now . Otherwise, I’m going to instruct my men to booby trap the perimeter while the team watching the hospital capture the tiny, delicate, little blonde target I sent them to retrieve. Oh , the fun that we can have with her.”
He’s threatening the men I love and my best friend.
My heart races at the possible consequences of my plan to delay our departure.
My eyesight wavers in fear.
I can’t fight him without hands.
I can’t allow him to hurt the Shamrocks sent to save me.
I can’t sit back and risk Nadia’s life.
The dozen ways that sticking to my plan could backfire bounce around my skull. I shake my head to clear the confusion and the movement causes my eye to throb. When I try to speak, blood runs over my lips and my nose flares with pain.
I think he broke my cheekbone, maybe my nose.
Licking my lips, I discover that the top right corner is torn and bleeding.
After I blink, the vision in my left eye turns blurry. It’s swelling, already partially closed from his punches. The skin pulls tight when I try to talk, stinging like a bitch, but I persevere.
“No booby traps and your men will leave Nadia alone.”
“And what will you give me in return?”
“My submission.”
Alex nods. He runs his chocolate gaze over me, narrowing his eyes as he scans my face with concern. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
“You don’t.” I tug my hands to show him that I’m the one who’s trapped. The movement makes my tattered shirt fall open, and Alex’s expression darkens at the sight of the tattoo covering my ribs. A new plan pops into my head. I make an instantaneous choice to move full steam ahead with it. “Do I look like I’m in any position to negotiate?”
“I don’t trust you.”
“I don’t trust you either.”
My honest answer is met with a scoff of derision. I brace for him to strike out with his fists, but he doesn’t. Chancing a peek at Alex through lowered lashes, I’m stunned to find that while he’s raking my bra-covered breasts with hungry eyes, there is hope in his posture. And that’s when I know, deep, deep down in the pit of my stomach, that this new plan is going to work.
“I think that was the first truthful thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I tell him. “We can start again… a clean slate. No more lies. No more fighting. Away from Perth.”
Our gazes lock. I widen my eyes and thrust my chest closer to him. Alex smiles. Then he reaches for the keys to the handcuffs. “Angel, you have no idea how happy this makes me.”
As he uncuffs me, I fight to keep hold of my optimism. If this doesn’t work, I’ve jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire for nothing. So many things can go wrong between this room and whatever vehicle he’s planning to use to take me away from Zeke. I might accidentally arouse his suspicion with my delaying tactics. His grip on sanity could snap. The Shamrocks may announce their arrival with a hail of bullets and I get caught in the crossfire.
There are too many potential obstacles to count.
Yet I still feel better being un-handcuffed.
Only one thing needs to go wrong for this to blow up in my face.
More than one thing needs to go right for this to work…
My fingers tremble as Alex grasps my wrist to pull me to my feet. My injuries pulse as pain engulfs me. My legs are jellylike as I do my best to step between Alex and the bag he is packing. My mind screams at me to be careful, yet there is a voice in my head that overrules the caution my brain demands.
It sounds like Zeke.
Telling me that my survival is paramount.
Reminding me that my track record for surviving Alex is one hundred percent.
Promising me that I’m strong enough to beat this monster.
“Change your clothes,” Alex tells me. “I don’t want my men to see you like this.”
I’m on autopilot, determined to be a docile little doll who does exactly what Alex requests. A robot, feeling nothing, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, even as he orders me around like a possession. I have a sole objective, one way out of this nightmare, and I refuse to be distracted by old trauma and future guilt.
My hands are steady as I pull the torn shirt from my shoulders and bare my upper body to my enemy. My stance is wide as I unzip the ruined skirt and it drops to the floor. Alex’s mouth falls open when I unclip my bra. It dangles from my fingers for a moment, then I drop it to the ground. The madman in front of me watches the lace fall with wide eyes. I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my ripped panties, wriggle my hips, and slowly work what’s left of them down my legs. All the while, centimetre by centimetre, Alex’s gaze follows the silken material. Down my thighs, over my knees, around the curve of my calf. I free one ankle, then step out of the other side and kick them toward him.
His Adam’s apple bobs.
Beaten but unbowed, I smile with as much sincerity as I can manage.
Alex swallows a second time at my lack of shame.
Standing tall and proud, I step closer. He automatically takes a step away from me as his prey instinct warns him of the impending danger that his male brain unconsciously ignores. I run a hand over my breast, down my stomach, and trail my fingertips over my inner thigh, then I reach past him to grab the t-shirt he threw at me earlier.
My nipples brush Alex’s upper arm.
He groans.
My muscles coil, ready to spring.
Never one to ask for permission, Alex palms my breasts, and his thumbs flick my nipples.
Feigning a full-body shudder of pleasure even as nausea grips me, I wrap my fingers around the pistol grip of the gun he tossed on top of the bag and promptly forgot about. Every lesson Toker ever gave me at the Shamrocks gun range pays dividends in the next second as I press the muzzle to Alex’s thigh. I squeeze the trigger. The bullet ejects. It tears through his flesh. Momentum pushes him to the right, and he catches himself with his palms on the mattress. I lunge for the handcuffs, securing one around his wrist, then dart out of his reach.
Alex leaps forward with a feral roar to grab me. “What the fuck? You whore.”
The grin that curls my lips when his leg buckles beneath him is genuine. He catches himself on the edge of the bed and plonks heavily on the mattress. I wave my hand in the general direction of Alex’s bleeding thigh, and tell him in a faux-sweet tone, “You might wanna tie something around that before you bleed out.”
Resembling a goldfish, he glares back at me, apparently mute, his lips parting and meeting without sound emerging. I offer him a shrug, then scoop up the keys to the handcuffs from the carpet where he tossed them after he let me go. When my plan was formulating, I was worried that he would stash the keys back in the drawer. It would’ve foiled my plot from the outset, but he was too lost in his own omnipotence to see his mistake, so I took the universe’s compliance as a sign to commit to my plan.
When I dangle them from my fingers and giggle, Alex snarls at me, “You’re going to regret this when I get hold of you. Enjoy your little power play while it lasts, Jezebel. There’s no way for you to leave.”
Rather than engage with him because I’m a little afraid that he’s right, since I haven’t actually worked out the next step in my plan yet, I concentrate on remaining out of Alex’s reach while I strip off the expensive jewellery that he put on me and cover myself with the t-shirt and boxers he gave me to wear. Once I’ve slid Zeke’s engagement ring back onto my finger and pulled my necklace over my head, I start poking around the room.
I check the shuttered window.
It’s locked tight.
Ducking into the bathroom, I discover that it’s windowless.
Anxiety begins to build, so I splash water on my face to calm myself. The reflection that greets me in the mirror does little to console me, my swollen eye and the dried blood crusted around my injuries don’t exactly imbue me with confidence.
Despite that, when I step back out into the bedroom, I have my game face solidly in place. Spinning with an energy sapping combination of worry and indecision, my mind seeks comfort. My thumb moves my engagement ring back and forth on my finger as Alex regards me with antipathy from his perch on the bed. I do my best to return his perusal with contempt. Knowing that it won’t take much to dent my flagging hopes of escape, I decide to take charge of the situation. Safely out of reach, I sight the handgun directly between Alex’s eyes.
The way he recoils is a boon to my fading assurance in my capabilities.
My tone is mocking as I say, “ Oh, don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you if you promise to leave me alone once I leave here. Otherwise, I’ll have to come after everyone you love, one by one.”
Alex rolls his eyes as I paraphrase his threats back to him. “Why would I do that now that I know how well you can prick tease? That was some strip tease, angel… I can’t wait to see what you give me next.” I swallow down the bile that enters my throat with his reminder of what I just did. Of course, he sees my reaction and uses it against me. “How are you going to explain that little show to your biker scum?”
Doing my best to act unaffected, I shrug.
“Maybe Zeke and I should get together and exchange notes,” Alex continues. “He can tell me how it feels to fuck my sloppy seconds, and I can ask him what it’s like to live with the knowledge that he’ll eventually lose you to his best friend.”
My mouth engages before my brain can warn me not to buy into his game. “You’re disgusting.”
“Maybe so,” he tells me with a sneer. “But I’m still right.”
“No, you’re not.”
It’s clear that Alex doesn’t agree.
He grins as he heightens his attack. “Everyone with eyes knows you’ll end up with Slash.” I frown at Alex’s insinuation about me and Zeke’s best friend before deciding that he’s just messing with my head. “At least you have something in common with the blond Goliath. He’s educated. Wealthy. Successful. What can Zeke offer you? He’s about to be an orphan… I don’t think a bloodstained VP patch and a run-down hobby farm are much use to a girl like you.”
Deciding that it’s time to fight fire with fire, I set him straight. “Alexander, darling... how have you not worked out, after all this time, that you had Zeke’s sloppy seconds?” As he digests the meaning of my taunt, I aim for his uninjured thigh and shoot. He screams. I force myself to giggle even as fear continues to dog me. Alex knots the bedspread around his newest bullet wound. “You see. You never had the privilege of being my first, no matter what you tell yourself… Zeke and I snuck away to his hotel room during my eighteenth birthday party. He was my first, and he would’ve been my only, if you hadn’t attacked me later that night... Let me tell you, though, I thought about him the entire time you were inside me, and I made sure he eradicated every memory of your touch as soon as the doctor gave me the all-clear to fuck him again.”
My parting shot is a lie.
It took me almost six months to physically recover and months longer than that to stand even the slightest touch. Alex’s attack broke my body and my psyche. Careful handling by Zeke and lots of love and support from Slash, Toker, Nadia, and my brothers have helped lessen my triggers, but I still flinch if they approach me without warning. I remain broken, even if, through some instinctive ability, Zeke knows how to stop me from spiralling too far nowadays.
Not that my unorthodox coping strategies are any of Alex’s business.
Torment flickers across his face before he schools his expression into a sneer, “What’s your point? You’re my Jezebel… my whore. He might’ve stolen your first time from me, but I’m the one who’s inside you. It’s my voice in your head. My hands that broke your body. My essence that courses through your veins. I live in your mind, in your heart, in your soul… it’ll take more than Zeke’s dick to get me out.”
During Alex’s vile tirade, I hear a tiny knock on the window behind me, two metallic raps, a pause, then another muted bang. The familiarity of the code shocks me, and I flinch when it happens again. Alex lapses into silence, turning an interested gaze on me, so I do the only thing I can to distract him from realising that his hideout is about to be overrun with bikers.
I raise the handgun and fire at him again.
Alex shouts, then he clamps his lips together and twists to peer at the wall behind him. I didn’t shoot him this time. The bullet instead lodged in the plaster next to his head. When Toker bangs on the window again, I cover up his knocking with a loud, sadistic laugh.
If my cousin is here, then Zeke and Slash are, too.
My pulse pounds with unadulterated hope.
“Don’t stress, two bullet wounds are enough for me,” I taunt Alex. He’s frowning, his gaze searches my face as I tell him, “Can’t have you bleeding out—it’d ruin Zeke and Slash’s plans for you. There’s a lot of hanging around involved.”
I give Alex a cheeky wink that turns his face red with rage. Pausing when I hear further noises outside the window, I twirl the handgun around my finger, mimicking Toker’s favourite trick, then I offer Alex what I pray is the last skerrick of my attention in this lifetime.
“Anyhow, enough chitchat. I’ve got better places to be.”
Alex doesn’t seem too concerned by my farewell. He relaxes with his back against the headboard, apparently content to watch me work out my escape without an argument. Since Toker has drawn my attention to the shuttered window, I search around the perimeter of the security screen for a switch to raise it. When I can’t find anything useful, the hope that surged within me at the knocking falters.
I’m on the verge of chancing a run at the bedroom door, even though it’s within Alex’s reach, when the lights in the bedroom go out and the shutter lifts of its own volition. Once it’s completely raised, I pull the window up, wave at the man who haunts my nightmares, then climb outside into the dull evening light.
Turning back to Alex, I give him a wave. “Don’t go anywhere. My calvary will be right back to deal with you.”