Did he see me brush my teeth at night? Dance in my underwear to music on my phone? Did he see me cry?
My stomach twisted.
Why me? Abackwoods hillbilly?
Why go to all this effort for a girl he looked down his nose at? What could he possibly want from me?
I turned and left the room.
The hallway on the far side of the apartment was dark. I passed a few doors, tried the handles—all locked.
Returning to the main area, I wondered if I could get the elevator door to open. I walked over to the entrance foyer and pushed the button, but nothing happened. I tried the handle on the black door beside it, which probably led to a stairwell, but it was locked too.
The walls closed in a little tighter around me. I couldn’t tell if I was his guest or his prisoner, but it didn’t matter. The claustrophobia was already creeping in. I needed some fresh air.
I returned to the living room, crossed to the glass doors leading to the patio, and gripped the handle. Locked?
No.
It slid open.
A burst of cold air hit me. I stepped outside barefoot, the chill biting at my toes.
The terrace was massive. Low walls, thick enough to sit on, lined the edges. In the front, there were boxwood planters. Outdoor furniture was covered and stowed for the winter. A tall wall of trellised vines, skeletal and thorny now that the flowers had died off, divided the space from the patio next door.
I approached the wall that led to the neighboring penthouse. It appeared to have a nearly identical layout, based on itsarchitecture and corner view. I stared at the trellis, brushing my fingers along one of the twisted vines.
Hmm, climbing roses.
Huge hooked thorns jutted from the stems.
I could scale the trellis—maybe—and get to the other side. But then what? Hope the doors were unlocked? Hope the neighbor wasn’t some trigger-happy billionaire?
No.
Too risky.
The wind cut through my thin shirt and shorts as I crossed to the edge of the terrace and jumped up onto the thick wall. I sat down, my legs dangling over some thirty stories of empty air.
The city buzzed below. There were cars honking and sirens blaring, even during the wee hours of the morning. But up here, everything felt still.
The drop didn’t scare me. Heights never had. After all, I spent most of my nights suspended in the air above strangers’ heads. This wasn’t the same though; it wasreallyhigh.
The parapet wrapped around the building toward the neighbor’s side. I followed it with my eyes. It would be possible to cross it—but not smart.
I sat there for a long minute, letting the cold wind whip against my skin. I should have been terrified. I should’ve been trying to escape. But something held me still.
The man who had taken me—he’d had every chance to hurt me.
But he hadn’t.
Instead, he’d held me like I was breakable. Drawn me a bath. Cooked for me. Treated me with a tenderness that didn’t match the brutal energy coiled inside him.
Why?
I pictured the look in his eyes when I’d licked that spoon. The raw hunger. He wanted me, and he hated himself for it.
Whatever he was…he wasn’t simple.
