“No,” I breathe, backing away from the counter. “No, Dave, don’t do that.”
The man moves fast.
Two steps and he’s there, hand on my arm.
I yank back, panic surging.
“Don’t touch me!” I shout.
Dave’s voice cuts through, sharp. “Sierra. Stop.”
I stare at him, chest heaving, tears finally spilling.
“You don’t want to hurt me,” I choke out. “You said you didn’t want to hurt me.”
Dave’s eyes are cold now, like he’s forcing himself to become the man he needs to be.
“I don’t,” he says. “But you’re going to think. You’re going to think how to get it back.”
My stomach drops.
“This isn’t you,” I plead.
Dave’s gaze flickers.
Just once.
Then it hardens again.
“This is what they made me,” he says, low. “And you’re going to help me fix this.”
The man tightens his grip and pulls.
I stumble, fighting, but he’s stronger. Trained.
As I’m dragged toward the hallway, I twist back, searching the open kitchen doorway like Knox might be there.
Like I might wake up.
Like any second now, the world will correct itself.
But all I see is Dave, standing by that perfect bowl of lemons, looking at me like I’m both a regret and a resource.
And the last thing I hear before the door slams behind me is his voice, hard as a lock.
“Think real hard, kiddo. Because your life depends on it.”
Chapter 11
Knox
Ihavekilledmenfor less than this.
For less than the thought of her scared. For less than the image of her being dragged somewhere she can’t fight her way out of.
They took Sierra off my watch.
Now I’m going to take her back.
