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“Where else was I supposed to put her?” a male voice replies, sounding annoyed.
“A hospital! Anywhere but here!”
A beat of silence, then the male voice replies, “We can’t take her to a fucking hospital, Nat. I couldn’t leave her there. She would have been killed. Or worse.”
There’s harsh laughter. “Oh, so now you’re playing the hero, Damian? Good job. You got your brownie points. Now get her out of here.”
“Nat’s right, Damian,” a third voice states, the tone gruff. “Dump her at the hospital. From that nasty lump on her head, she’ll probably be in a concussion for a while and won’t ever know she was here.”
“No, I think she’ll stay right here.”
I flinch as I hear something slam against the wall. “Why the fuck are you being so obtuse?” the woman snarls.
“We know nothing about her and why she was being held by the Invicta soldier. We should question her first before I decide what to do with her.”
“That’s stupid, Damian,” says the third voice.
There’s a heavy pause, and even I take a step back at the venom in the second man’s voice. “What did you call me?”
“Don’t apologize, Edo,” the woman says sharply. “He’s right, Damian. Ditch the bitch.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” the second voice retorts.
Heavy footsteps begin approaching the door, unhurried but purposeful. My throat grows dry as the sound grows nearer. I glance around wildly, looking for any weapon I can use to protect myself. I do a double-take as I notice a wooden baseball bat leaning against the wall by the window.
I lunge for the bat just as the door handle slowly turns and opens. Clutching it in my arms, I raise it above my head, my hands shaking.
In the doorway stand two men and a woman. The woman is striking with shoulder-length black hair and bangs framing large brown eyes that are currently narrowed in my direction. Standing next to her is an imposing, incredibly tall man with a thick, tree-trunk neck and shoulders so broad they seem to span the entire doorway. His massive chest strains against the seams of his white button-up shirt, seemingly ready to burst the fibers at any moment.
But it’s the man standing in front of the others that makes my heart skip a beat.
It’s the handsome man from the bakery. But he looks far scarier now with the scowl on his face, his dark eyes fixed on me.
“Put the bat down,” he orders, his voice a rich baritone.
I shake my head, refusing to listen. I’m not sure what’s gotten into me as I would have had no problem doing so if Mark or the Carters asked me.
“Put. It. Down,” the man snaps, taking one menacing step toward me.
I only grip the bat tighter, my body starting to shake from terror. I’ve never been the athletic type, but it wouldn’t be that difficult to swing the bat at him. Although I’m not sure what to do about the two people still standing at the door. The huge man looks like he could eat me for breakfast, and I’m not about to underestimate the woman.
In the blink of an eye, the handsome man rushes forward, snatches the bat from me, and breaks it clean across his muscular knee. I squeak in fear, my feet frozen to the ground.
“What’s your name?” he asks, tossing the baseball bat pieces away from him.
“Where am I?” I whisper.
“No,” the handsome man says, his gaze unwavering and intense. “That’s not how this is going to work. I ask a question and you answer it. Let’s start again. What is your name?”
I swallow hard, my throat constricting with fear. Every instinct is telling me to remain silent, to guard what little privacy I have left.
“I don’t want to say,” I reply, my voice meek and small.
In a flash, the man is in my face, making me flinch. “That’s not an option,” he growls. “You don’t get to decide what information you share.”
My heart pounds in my chest as he leans closer, his face mere inches from mine. I can smell the mint of his breath, and can see the anger in his eyes.
“Now,” he says, his voice dangerously low. “Your name.”
