I felt his grip loosen for half a second, and I watched him reach down for something. When he lifted his hand again, metal caught the light spilling in through the window.
A knife.
“Callum,” I said as calmly as possible, though my pulse raced. “Don’t do this.”
He shifted so we were face-to-face again. “You were supposed to be with me. I waited,” he spat. “I played nice. And then you—” He jerked his chin toward the bedroom, as if it offended him. “You let them have you. Both of them.”
I swallowed hard and tried to force air into my lungs. If I tried to run past him, I’d likely get hurt, but I knew I had to find a way to escape. Fast.
“You know this won’t end well for you if you hurt me,” I said, hoping he’d realize it would be the worst choice he’d ever make.
He stepped closer, the knife angled down but still close enough to make my heart pound against my chest. “Well, you should have thought about the consequences before acting like a whore. But if that’s how you want to behave, I can certainly indulge you.”
He pushed me onto the bed, and the mattress dipped as he climbed over me.
“Get off!” I yelled.
Panic threatened to swallow me whole, but I refused to let it leave me helpless.
My gaze flicked to the nightstand, and I saw the lamp with a marble base sitting there, just within reach.
Callum loomed over me, the knife still in his hand, his eyes wild and unfocused.
“Things didn’t have to be like this.” He leaned forward, burying his face in my neck. “If only you’d accepted that you are mine.”
My mind screamed at me. If I was going to escape, I had to move now.
With him distracted by his own words, I grabbed the lamp and swung it as hard as I could.
It connected with a sickening crack to the side of his head.
He hit the floor, and the knife skittered from his hand.
For a second, I stared at him, my chest heaving and shocked at what I’d done.
Then survival took over again.
I ran.
My bare feet slapped against the tile as I sprinted through the living room, glancing back to make sure Callum wasn’t following.
I undid the locks with trembling hands, yanked the door open, and collided with another man.
32
Jase
The elevator doors slid shut,and the second we started for the ground floor, Dylan leaned his shoulder into mine, wearing that lazy, satisfied grin he’d worn since the call from Marcos last night.
“So,” he began, “we’re really doing the whole ‘pick her up like it’s a real date’ thing?”
I let out a laugh. “Don’t act like you aren’t into it.”
“I’m into anything that involves her in a dress,” he replied, then glanced at me. “And anything out of one.”
“That part’s not new, but I like the idea of us taking her out on a date.”
Dylan’s smile widened. “With us playing in the same city now, maybe we can take Faye out on more dates.”
