Everything else rushes back in an avalanche of jagged memories. The alley. Benny’s execution. My kidnapping. My escape. My ransacked apartment. Gio’s threat against Samantha. The shoot-out. My second abduction. Alexei’s mouth on mine. My shameful response. His rejection.
Too much.
It’s all too much.
My chest constricts as my breathing accelerates into shallow gasps that fail to deliver enough oxygen to my brain. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision. I’m hyperventilating. Drowning in air.
Instinct drives me forward, off the bed, and across the room to the wall of curtains. I reach for heavy fabric, yanking the drapes open with more force than necessary. Bright sunlight pours in.
Chicago sprawls below, a miniature toy city from this height. Cars crawl along like insects in lines. People move like darting dots between towering structures. Life continues as if my world hasn’t been shattered. As if I’m not trapped in this glass, steel, and brick fortress with a murderer who kisses like he’s starving and I’m his last meal.
I press my forehead against the cool glass, allowing the contrast in temperature to ground me. My breath fogs the window. With each exhale, each inhale, the small cloud expands and contracts.
In. Out. In. Out.
Until my lungs remember their rhythm, the black spots recede, and I can think past the panic.
Second abduction.
The words echo in my mind, absurd in their redundancy. Who gets kidnapped twice in as many days? Me, apparently. Aurora Bailey, professional victim. If there were an award formost spectacular life implosion, I’d be giving the acceptance speech right now.
I’d like to thank my complete lack of self-preservation instincts and my terrible timing for this honor. But I’m most grateful for my horrendous taste in men, which I can always depend on.
A wild laugh bubbles up my throat but dies before it reaches my lips. Because beneath the absurdity, beneath the fear and the confusion and the unwanted desire, there’s that solid certainty that I’m alive.
I’m still breathing. Still fighting. Still me, underneath it all.
Sometimes that’s all a girl can do. Survive. One breath at a time. One second at a time.
The metallic snick of the door handle roots me in place. My body goes rigid, caught between the instinct to flee and the knowledge that there’s nowhere to go. The door swings inward with deliberate slowness.
Alexei hovers in the doorframe, his broad shoulders nearly touching both sides. The sight of him both arouses and terrifies me.
He’s dressed in dark jeans and a white t-shirt that stretches across his chest and highlights the muscles beneath. Must be his signature outfit. His damp hair curls slightly at the temples.
I scramble backward, bare feet silent against the plush carpet, until I hit the window. The glass chills me through the thin fabric of his shirt. My t-shirt now. My heart leaps into my throat as his eyes rove over me.
What does he want?
What’s he going to make me do today?
“Come.” The faintest twitch of his mouth interrupts his inscrutable expression. “Time for breakfast.”
He exits the room without waiting for my response, no doubt assuming I’ll follow. As if his word is law.
Ass.
After remaining motionless for a good minute, I do heed his command. Not because he ordered me to, but because I’m starving. And I need to know what’s happening. And hanging out alone in this gray room will drive me insane faster than facing him will.
Most of all, I’m afraid Pixie will piss in my shoes if I don’t set up the litter box.
Daylight transforms the main room of the loft, softening the vast space with a golden glow. The city gleams beyond the wall of windows, a perfect backdrop for the scene that greets me.
Alexei sits in a large swivel chair before an array of monitors, his back to the spectacular view. The screens cast blue-white light across his features, emphasizing the sharp angles of his face and the intensity of his focus.
Stacks of papers, a leather-bound notebook, and a tablet sit on a table beside him. The scholar at work. The predator at rest. Studying. Planning. Waiting.
For what, I have no idea.
