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Silence.
“You blocked the doors.”
Nothing.
My brain catches up.
He could’ve grabbed me downstairs.
But he didn’t.
He could’ve stopped me before I reached the stairs.
He didn't.
Instead, he slowly followed.
My eyes narrow. “You wanted me to run.”
His head tilts.
“Oh my God.” I point at him. “You did.”
Nothing.
“You sick bastard.”
His shoulders move.
My mouth falls open. “Are you laughing at me?”
They shake a little harder.
“You are!”
A distorted sound comes through the device beneath the mask. Not quite a laugh, but close enough.
“You're an asshole.”
He takes one step toward me.
My anger disappears.
Shit. Not a good idea to call a hulking masked man names.
Heat replaces it as he gets closer.
I hate it.
I hate it even more when I realize I'm not moving.
He takes another step.
My pulse races, just like before. Except now I know fear isn't the only thing causing it.
He stops in front of me, close enough that I have to tip my head back.
Close enough that I catch something beneath the autumn air clinging to his clothes.
