Around nine, I curl up on Kade’s massive sectional with my furry companion sprawled across my lap while I scroll through my phone. The house is quiet. It feels weird not having one of the guys here watching over my every move, or even just knowing they are across the hall.
Then the lights go out.
All of them at once.
My phone nearly slips from my hands in my fright, but I quickly pull up the security app. It shows as offline.
The whole fucking system is offline. I stare at my phone, watching the security app go dark. One by one, the green indicators flip to red, then disappear entirely. All of it. Gone.
That’s not possible. The system has a backup power supply. It should not fail even if the power goes out.
Cold dread crawls up my spine, and my hands start to shake.
This is it. This is how I die.
My heart thunders against my ribcage as I stand.
The panic room. I need to get to the panic room.
I’m halfway across the living room when I hear a sound coming from upstairs.
Someone’s in the house.
I freeze. Every self-defense lesson I’ve had runs through my head.
The panic room is in the basement, but I am on the main floor. It’s the smart choice, though; that’s what it’s built for. Get there. Lock the door. Call for help.
The moment I turn toward the basement stairs, I see him.
A figure at the bottom of the stairs blocks my path—and he’s wearing a glow mask.
“Oh thank fuck!” I gasp out in relief.
Now that I know it’s him, and hopefully his friends, I run. I wonder where they will catch me.
I take the main stairs up, panting with exertion and adrenaline. Behind me, I hear footsteps closing the distance between us.
The second floor is darker, with fewer emergency lights. I run past the bedrooms, heading for the third floor. Toward Kade’s studio.
Two figures appear at the top of the third-floor staircase, and I’m trapped between them and the man chasing me.
Vander’s training mantra kicks in—assess, adapt, act. But there’s nowhere to go. No escape route. There are three of them, and only one of me.
My lungs burn, my pulse hammers in my ears, and for a moment, no one moves. Then the one chasing me steps up close behind me and lifts a finger to my cheek.
“Good girl,”the distorted voice says.“You know what to do when the lights go out.”
The words melt the fear, soothing my terror at thinking my stalker was breaking in.
His hand brushes the side of my neck, tracing down to my shoulder, mapping the curve of my collarbone before moving away.
“Blindfold,”the leader orders from his spot above us on the staircase.
Before I can even attempt to resist, a strip of black fabric slides across my eyes. Deft fingers tie a knot at the base of my skull.
Someone exhales near my ear. Another hand steadies my hip. My body tilts toward the contact, knowing how much I love this.
“Beautiful.”
