Page 24

That’s fine. I’ll stay quiet. Because that must be Zayden. Who else would be here now?

Dean opens the door with total confidence.

It’s not my husband. It’s two men, and as they enter, their suit jackets shift with movement. Both are armed.

While Dean talks to them about Zayden’s location in the hotel, I slowly slip off my heels.

“Don’t wait for the hit,” my mom shouts. “Hit him first!”

But white spots are already bursting in my vision, and blood is filling my mouth. My dad stands over me. “Get up, or I’ll hurt you.”

My breathing picks up as a thousand lessons assault my mind. Early mornings. Late nights. Broken ribs. Blood loss and pain.

Maybe they knew I’d never truly escape this life, so they were preparing me.

Or maybe they cursed me.

“Ryker Blake,” Dean says as he approaches me again. “That’s who I am. If your husband doesn’t show up soon, Silence, I’m leaving with you.”

No. I won’t let him take me.

Don’t wait for the hit.

Hit him first.

Hard. Fast. Accurate.

Then run.

I throw my fist out. My knuckles connect with Ryker’s throat this time, and his eyes widen as he stumbles back, giving me enough of an opportunity to run.

The first suited man barrels toward me. Bald, large, but slow. I duck, shoving him as hard as I can, but he’s pure muscle and only loses his footing when I kick the back of his leg.

I’m out of practice, and I fall, too. My knees meet the carpet, and I slip on my silk dress as I try to crawl to a standing position.

The other man seizes my hair and pulls me to my feet. My scalp burns, my eyes water, and a scream tears from my throat as he slams me into the door. The air is knocked from my lungs, and I throw my elbow out. It hits something, but I’m unsure what, still desperately trying to breathe.

My vision blurs from pain and confusion, but my attention narrows on the small red box by the door.

I slam my palm against it, glass cracking.

The fire alarm blares.

“Bitch.” The man wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me. I press my feet against the door and shove, and the world tips. He’s not as big as the other guy so he falls, releasing me once we slam into the floor. I roll onto my knees, but Ryker is already coming for me. I crouch, stand, then throw my knee forward in an attempt to hit him between the legs, but he angles his body and seizes my neck, walking me backward across the room until my back meets the wall.

My body is exhausted. Muscles burning. Lungs desperate for a deep breath.

But my parents put me through worse than this fucker ever could.

I turn my body, lift my arm, and throw my elbow into Ryker’s face. Once. Twice. Three times. He releases me.

I grab the doorhandle.

Falling into the hallway, I scream at the top of my lungs, not that there’s much air in them to do so. The bigger guy is back, and I crawl, trying to get to my feet, but this fucking dress⁠—

He grabs my hair. Lips near my ear. “You think you can run, little girl? You can’t. We’re gonna take you.” Terror sluices through me, and he shoves my face into the carpet. “We’re gonna take you and⁠—”

He’s gone. The pain, the heat from his breath, it’s all gone.