Page 70 of Vega

Then I looked at the bedroom door. I ran out of the bathroom and towards it. Then I lowered myself beside the lock. My hands shook as I worked.

The first attempt failed, and so did the next several. I forced myself to slow down, listen, and feel for movement inside the mechanism rather than fighting it blindly.

Finally, a small click sounded.

I froze, both excited and scared.

Then I pulled, and the lock opened.

For half a second, I stared at it in disbelief. Then I ran. I didn’t stop for shoes. I didn’t have money, a phone, or any idea where the house was located. But none of that mattered. I needed distance from the man who was making it harder to tell the difference between fear and desire.

The hallway opened into a larger section of the house, and I stopped. I had no idea where the front door was. He had brought me there unconscious, so everything beyond the bedroom was unfamiliar. I rushed past closed doors, turned down one hallway, then doubled back when it led toward a staircase and another dark corridor. My breathing grew more frantic as every doorway revealed another room instead of an exit.

I tried to remember the sounds I had heard from inside the bedroom, which direction his footsteps usually came from, and where the engine had sounded strongest when he left. But none of it helped.

Then I spotted a door at the end of a hall and ran toward it, praying it led outside.

I grabbed the handle, but before I could pull the door open, a hand closed around my arm.

I screamed and spun around. He stood behind me. The mask covered his face, but fury sharpened his eyes as he pulled me away from the door.

Panic took over. I struck at his chest and tried to wrench my arm free. He caught my other wrist, turned me, and pressed my back against the wall.

“Let me go!” I kicked at his legs and twisted until he captured both wrists in one hand and lifted them above my head.

His body blocked mine against the wall.

“I want to get out of here!” I screamed. “I want to get away from you! You enjoy this.”

His eyes narrowed, and he finally spoke, “Enjoy what?”

“Me being helpless. Knowing I can’t get away from you.”

Admiration flowed through his stare. “Helpless women don’t give me war wounds.” His free hand touched the healing scratch near his throat. “They don’t make me reconsider every decision I once thought made me weak ass nigga either.”

I stopped struggling.

Our faces were inches apart.

I could smell the clean spice of his cologne mixed with the outside air. His chest moved against mine with each controlled breath, and the strength holding my wrists remained firm without becoming painful.

My body noticed everything my mind wanted to deny; his towering height, his ability to manhandle me, despite my size, his heat, and the solid pressure of him keeping me in place.

He could have overpowered me more violently, but he didn’t.

That restraint frightened me because it left room for other feelings.

His gaze moved over my face and settled briefly on my mouth.

My breath caught, and he noticed.

Instead of closing the distance, Vega released me abruptly and stepped back.

The absence of his body left me cold.

“Go back to your room.”

I lowered my aching arms, glaring at him. “Fuck you!”