Page 41 of ’Til You Break

“What are you doing here?” he asks against the top of my head, squeezing me tighter against his solid body. He drags me deeper into the alley until the entrance is nothing more than a distant square of fading light.

To my surprise, he doesn’t do what I expect. Instead, he sets me back on my feet.

“I’m going to let you go,” he says. “But if you scream, I’ll have to hurt you.”

Adrenaline surges through me, but I manage to nod.

As soon as his gloved hand slips away from my mouth, I consider breaking my promise. I see myself screaming. Running. Praying someone hears me.

I decide against it. I remember the empty parking lot. Even if someone does come, I wouldn’t want them facing the man standing behind me.

Apparently satisfied, he releases my shoulder and takes a step back. I turn to face him, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to stay on my feet.

I recognize him immediately.

Or rather, I recognize the black mask with the white skull across the front. He’s the man from the news. He catches me before my knees can give out. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he presses a gloved palm against my chest, pinning me to the wall. That same hand slides up my neck, across my jaw, until his fingers wrap around my cheeks.

He tilts my face towards his.

And somehow, I can see him. Clear as day. Staring back at me like the Reaper come to collect his next victim.

He steps even closer, using his body to pin me harder against the wall. His heat radiates through my clothes. His scent fills my lungs. He’s wearing no cologne. There’s just the scent of clean detergent and something unmistakably masculine beneath it.

My knees weaken. Not from fear alone. The sensation pulls me somewhere else. Somewhere safe.

Back to Vik.

Then it hits me. Fear isn’t the only thing twisting inside me. Warmth blooms low in my stomach. Tempting me. Reminding me that the danger and the adrenaline are far more intoxicating than I’d ever admit aloud.

The warmth curdles into disgust almost as quickly as it appeared. There’s something deeply wrong with me if this is how I react to standing inches away from death.

I turn my face away.

He takes it as an invitation to spin me around until I’m facing the wall.

“Forget what you saw here,” he says quietly. “It’s just a bad dream.”

Then he lets me go.

My skin still burns where his fingers touched me. Tears stream down my face as the sound of his footsteps slowly fades into the night.

I snatch up the grocery bag and run back to the taxi. The driver doesn’t say a word, even though I took far longer than I promised.

I’m grateful for his silence during the drive home. It gives me time to think about what just happened. What I should do about it. And why it made me feel the way it did.

Being scared makes sense.

Being confused makes sense.

But wondering what might have happened... That makes me feel sick.

Because he could’ve done whatever he wanted with me.

And I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

Why is that so fucking alluring?

Chapter Fourteen