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“You’re fucking nuts if you think I’m marrying you.”
“Breanna?”
He’s here. Fuck you, asshole.
“Sin—”
His hand covering her mouth, the crazed fucker slammed her against the wall. Pure hatred. It was there in his eyes.
Her gaze darted to Sinjin, who cautiously approached. “Let her go, Derek.”
A husky laugh tumbled from his throat. “Fuck off, Ian.”
“Come on, man. You were never going to get away with it. I saved your ass.” For a brief moment, Sinjin locked eyes with her. It seemed as if they were trying to tell her something, but she didn’t know what. “You’re just making this worse for yourself.”
Derek lowered the hand in his pocket and turned around. “I told you, you’re dead to me.”
“Get dressed, baby,” Sinjin prompted her with a tip of his chin.
“Yes, and hurry it up, Miss Dalton.” Derek snickered. Breanna could hear the menacing smirk in his voice. “Tick tock, tick tock.”
“Gun,” she mouthed to Sinjin, patting her side.
Fingers trembling, Breanna pulled her leggings on and grabbed a tank top and hoodie while she looked for a pair of boots. Her knit ankle booties would have to do. They were house slippers, but whatever.
“You are going to take that mangy mutt of yours and go back to your party house in Sacramento. Your services are no longer required here or at the firm, either.”
Gun, gun, gun!
Frantically, Breanna waved her arms in the air and scrambled to put the booties on her feet.
“I expect you to be gone before Miss Dalton and I return.”
She could hear voices coming down the hall. “I’m telling you, I haven’t seen him, Miranda.”
Francie. Thank fuck.
“His car’s in the driveway. Where’s Ian?”
Derek moved toward the door.
Sinjin’s eyes pleading with hers, he whispered, “Run.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why didn’t I take my keys?
Panting. Cold. Out of breath. Breanna raced along the deck to the stairs, holding onto her phone. At least she’d had the sense to grab that. But then it was sitting right there on the bed. The keys to her car were in her purse.
On the ground level, once Breanna was certain no one was following her, she hid behind a tree and took out her phone. Her voice quivering, she choked on the words. “Jordy, it’s Breanna. You’ve got to come quick.”
“Calm down, sweetie. What’s going on?”
“Derek’s here and he’s got a gun.” Crying, she wiped the snot from her nose.
“Where’s Ian?”
“In the house with Derek. He told me to run. Please, hurry.” Afraid the tree couldn’t hide her for long, Breanna hung up the phone.
And she ran.
