Page 122 of The Darkest Chase

“Definitely not,” I wheeze out.

Then I pull his office door open and bolt into the hall.

I know I shouldn’t be running with this tightness in my lungs, but I can’t stop it.

I know the way now.

I don’t need Joseph or any hired help showing me out. I dash down the lurid red carpet and weave through the shadows, diving into the foyer with every breath coming thinner and thinner.

My head throbs, blurring my vision.

Oh no, oh no, I can’t.

Not here. Not with him.

I manage to wrench the massive doors open and go tumbling outside.

Bright sunlight.

Open air.

Safety.

I suck in a few rattling breaths, trying to make my lungs work.

Staggering forward, I drop down on the top step. My sample books go clattering across stone. I thunk my bag into my lap, pawing frantically for my inhaler.

There—there it is—and I rip the cap off, push it into my mouth, depress the plunger, and breathe.

Mist floods my lungs.

I inhale in the practiced way I learned so many years ago. My vision keeps swimming while I wait for improvement.

I can’t believe I almost lost it because this creeper grabbed my face.

No—it’s more than that. It’s everything tied up in this mess with Xavier, Micah, the Jacobins, the dead man.

Whenever I’m around Xavier, I’m reminded how dangerous he can be. That it’s not just a man creeping on a woman with hideously inappropriate advances.

It’s a man who might hurt me with no qualms about it.

No matter how I try this subterfuge thing, I can’t pretend I don’t know what I do.

Worse, he seems to enjoy how uncomfortable he makes me, even if he doesn’t know all the reasons why.

The help from my inhaler nearly fails me the instant the doors bang open at my back, smashing against the stone like a gunshot.

My eyes snap open.

With a small scream, I’m clutching at my chest.

“Miss Grey!” Xavier yells at my back.

Oh God.

I’m too busy pumping my inhaler to turn around.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did he follow me?

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