“Absolutely.” His answering grin is wide. Reaching over the console, he takes my hand, lacing his fingers in mine. “I’m glad we did that. And I’m glad we can talk about this. I feel more relaxed trusting you’ll tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like. And I’m glad that we’re going to plan it, because I want it to be special, Sel.” His eyes well up again. “I want it to be a memory you will cherish for eternity.”
“I already know I will, K,” I truthfully admit. “Because you’re the only man who will ever own my heart, mind, body, and soul.”
I’m floating on a cloud the following day, and it feels fantastic to finally be making progress in my life. I have my first session with the EMDR hypnotherapist next week, and Keanu and I are going to sit down this weekend and work out the details of our first time.
I’m excited and happy and a little distracted as I edge out of the row in the auditorium, which is why I don’t spot him loitering just inside the door of my developmental psychology class until I’m almost on top of him.
My eyes do a double take as I stare at the man who played such a huge part in my destruction.
Cassius.
My stomach lurches violently, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop myself from throwing up.
Clive Lawrence is dressed casually in jeans, Vans, and a college sweater, and he’s wearing a ballcap, keeping his head down low, trying to blend in.
But his gaze is zeroed in on mine. His dark eyes are glinting with righteous indignation. The wicked gleam promising all types of punishment. A knowing sneer pulls up the corners of his mouth as he pushes off the wall.
Panic consumes me, and my stomach heaves again. I clamp my lips shut as my feet root to the floor. All the blood drains from my face as his lips kick up higher and his eyes trail the length of my body.
My classmates push past me, laughing and gossiping as they stream through the doors, oblivious to the monster in their midst.
The crowd surges toward the exit, and my brain reengages.
I can’t be left alone in here with him! There is safety in numbers, and I need to move!
My limbs are jittery as I force them into action, walking up the steps and trying to finagle my way into the middle of the crowd where I’m less vulnerable.
But he predicts my response, moving quickly along the side, sliding past bodies to intercept me. His arm juts forward, and he grabs hold of my wrist. I open my mouth to scream when he presses the muzzle of a gun into my side. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warns, close to my ear.
“Let me go.” I attempt to wrest my arm out of his solid grip. My skin is crawling at the feel of his fingers around the bare skin of my wrist, and nausea lodges in the back of my throat.
“Never.” His fingernails dig into my sensitive flesh, and I swallow my cry of pain.
His dark chuckle sends shivers down my spine as he forces me up the last few steps, discreetly pushing the gun into my lower back. The crowd is his shield as he leads me to an inevitable fate. None of them is paying us any attention, so I can’t even attempt to silently communicate a plea for help. He’s almost flush with my body at the back, and the feel of him up against me sends me into a tailspin. My body is on instant high alert. Fear and nausea taking control. My breathing becomes labored, and blood rushes to my head, making me dizzy.
I try to calm down, but I’m so fucking scared, and my heart won’t stop thumping loudly in my chest.
“Did you miss me, whore, because I sure missed you.” His warm breath skates over my ear, and a whimper flees my mouth. Every muscle in my body is on lockdown, and if he wasn’t pushing me forward, I doubt I’d be able to put one foot in front of the other.
“You won’t get away with this,” I say, hating how my voice cracks. I’m barely caging my hysteria, and I hate that he most likely knows it.
I just need to get him outside to the main lobby where my bodyguards are waiting.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply, I force myself to calm down as I quicken my pace, praying I can keep my panic at bay for another couple minutes. I just need to stay within the safety of the crowd and lead him to the lobby, and then my bodyguards will do their job.
If he gets me alone, all bets are off, so I need to stay the course.
He prods the gun into my back. “You’re mine,” he whispers in my ear, and another whimper flies out of my mouth before I can stop it. Adrenaline stampedes through my body, and I’m trembling all over. “I own you,” he adds. “And you’re going to fucking pay for running away from me. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”
25
Keanu
“They’re here,” Kent says, pointing at the camera which shows the exterior view of the building.
I race out of the room, out of our condo, forgoing the elevator and taking the stairs two at a time as I rush to get outside.
A black FBI SUV pulls up to the curb behind the bodyguards’ car just as my foot hits the sidewalk. Ignoring the FBI, I dash to the open rear door of the other car. “Get out of my way,” I snap, shoving Ray—the older of the two bodyguards tasked with keeping Selena safe—out of the way. He’s crouched down in front of the back seat, so he falls back on his butt when I barrel past him.
