Page 30 of Pretty Little Threats

My leverage wasn’t enough.

Muscles tired and heavy, I trudge up the steps to my porch, tapping out my code on the keypad and heaving out a breath as I push into my foyer. Though the layout of my home is similar to Dare’s, the kitchen and dining room are on the lowest level, and the living room is on the second.Also, my third and fourth floor utilize all the space available, providing more square footage than I need, but I love my house.

Warm air greets me. I kick off my shoes, cool tile kissing my bare feet as I tug off the long-sleeve top. I keep my camisole on and toss the shirt on the stairs to take up later. Dropping my phone onto the table, I head to the kitchen. Motion-activated lights turn on as I make my way down the stairs, a feature I insisted on. As a grown woman, I should have conquered my fear of the dark, and for the most part, I have. But there are times when the nightmares come and the pitch black is too much.

As my feet hit the landing, my gaze collides with Eric Vanderbelt’s. He’s sitting on top of my island, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand and a strange, almost angry grin pulling at his mouth as he leers at me.

Dread is a lead stone in my gut. Heart skipping, lungs tightening to the point of pain, throat clenching until it’s hard to breathe, I struggle to keep my composure at the sight of him in my house. Uninvited.

Sure, I broke into Dare’s house earlier, but that’s different. I was running away from Eric.

Eric is here to . . . possess.

Or worse. I’m not sure how I know it, but seeing that look in his eyes, I feel it in my bones. Eric would cross every line if it meant he got to own me.

Nausea roils in my gut.

I thought I was afraid of Dare, but the tremble of fear coursing through me as Eric sets the glass down and jumps off the counter is stronger, more visceral. I almost turn and flee, except the harsh voice in my head, telling me Millers don’t run, keeps me rooted to the spot.

With Dare, I know what I’m getting into. There’ssomething unknown about Eric, a different sort of viciousness and one of the main reasons I don’t want to marry him. Dare might kill me, but Eric would break me and do it with a smile on his face.

“Rosalynn, I’ve been waiting for you,” Eric purrs, swaggering over to me with the confidence of a man who owns the world.

“Eric.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “I thought you were out of town.”

“I came back early,” he says with a shrug. Although Eric isn’t as big as Dare, he’s larger than I am. Stronger.

My throat is dry, like someone dragged sandpaper over it. A tremor runs through my hand, and I tighten my grip on the railing, hoping to hide the shaking. Stubbornness rears its head. I refuse to cower.

Schooling my features, I give Eric a cool once-over. “How did you get in?”

Eric stops before me, ducking his head and studying my face. His nostrils flare as he inhales. Does he know how scared I am? Can he scent it, like the very predator he is? A flash of darkness crosses his features, but then his lips twist into a sinister smile. “Your dad gave me the code. He thought it might be good for you and me to talk.”

Betrayal slices through me. Dad, of all people, gave this man access to my safe place? I know he’s adamant about this arrangement, but he’s led the wolf right to me. Is it possible he doesn’t see the worst of Eric the same way I do? Perhaps, all he can see is the businessman everyone loves.

Still, he never should have given Eric the code.

“It’s late,” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“I heard you said you don’t want to marry me.” Annoyance ripples over his face, and his fists clench at his side.

That fear from before creeps down my spine,forcing my heart to beat faster until it’s slamming against my rib cage. Warning signals flare, but my pride keeps me in place, that and worry about what he might do if I run. He’d probably happily chase me down, and I know I wouldn’t like how that encounter ended.

Lifting a shoulder, I release a soft sigh, as if this is all a misunderstanding. “I don’t want to be forced into a marriage I didn’t agree to,” I say, which is true and might help soothe some of his anger. “You didn’t even ask me, Eric.”

“Why are you being difficult about this? We’re a good match. You’re beautiful. I’m attractive. We’re both rich. People like us don’t get down on one knee to propose, we take what we want.” He reaches up and brushes his knuckles over my cheek.

I flinch away from the touch.

Bad idea.

Eric surges forward, grabbing the back of my neck and squeezing so hard, I have to press my lips together to keep from whimpering from the pain jolting down my spine.

“You’re going to marry me,” he hisses, gripping my arm to keep me in place. “I’ve waited for this deal for years.” His fingers dig into my flesh, rough and unrelenting.

As a sharp ache shoots through my body, I slam my knee between his legs, nailing him in the balls. Grunting, he loosens his hold on me, and I take advantage, breaking away from him and putting distance between us.

The counter is a measly obstacle, but tonight, it might as well be a barricade keeping me safe from an encroaching army.

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