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Shoot. Where was her handbag? Oh. wait, she’d left it in her office.
She’d get it on the way out. She just needed her phone.
Oh! There it was. She snatched it up.
“I guess I’ll be heading home now.” How was she going to get home at this time of night? The buses didn’t run this late.
She’d have to get a ride-share, which would cost her more than she wanted to spend. But she had no other choice.
“No. Why are you scared of storms?”
Oh. Right.
“I don’t know.”
He shot her a quelling look as though warning her not to bullshit him.
“It’s honestly the truth. I have no idea why I’m scared of storms. Or claustrophobic. Although that’s kind of common, right? To not like tight spaces? But the storms . . . yeah, no clue.”
He frowned but nodded and didn’t ask her anything more.
“Okay, well, thanks for, um, helping me while I freaked out. Bye.” She started toward the door. She’d nearly made it when an arm slipped around her waist.
“Where do you think you’re going, Little Blossom?” he asked, pressing her back against his chest.
Holy moly.
Her body tingled, her skin heating.
Did he know what he did to her every time he touched her?
She was starting to think that he did.
Evil fudging genius.
“I’m leaving,” she said, her pulse racing. “I’m going home.”
To see if she could get some sleep.
Yeah, like that’s going to happen.
“I didn’t give you permission to leave.”
Was he for real right now?
“I don’t need your permission to go home.”
“I don’t like this arguing back, Faith,” he told her in a low voice.
What the heck?
“I just want to go home. I’m tired. I . . . I need to go home. Please.”
Well, it didn’t take long for her to lose the backbone she’d found.
“Hmm. I don’t want you getting tired.” He released her and she swayed slightly.
Right. Well, she hadn’t expected him to just let her go. But she’d take it. She took a small step toward the door, not entirely convinced that the predator would really let her go.
