Page 26 of Monster

I was debating whether I should try to make a run for it when the side door suddenly opened, making me jump.

Dominic glanced over at me briefly before looking back at the older man holding the door open for us.

Dominic reached over and assisted me off the bike. I struggled a bit until he squeezed my side and leaned down, whispering in my ear, “Don’t cause a scene, wildcat. There are plenty of ways I can subdue you that the men who work here won’t even bat an eye at. And with the way I’m feeling right now, you don’t want to piss me off.”

My bottom lip trembled, and I did something I hadn’t done since the moment Dominic appeared on the deck. I begged.

“Please let me go. I had nothing to do with Braxton being shot at. I was trying to save him.”

He didn’t respond to me. I got the feeling he wasn’t surprised that Braxton and I were shot at.

Then I remembered the bullet holes in my car. He probably guessed it.

I blinked and looked away.

When I didn’t say anything, he led me to the door, his grip on my waist never loosened. I had no choice. Judging by the older man’s expression watching us, I knew Dominic was right.

No one would come to my aid.

I blinked away the burning sensation in my eyes, trying hard not to cry.

I didn’t want to appear weak.

The man pressed something into Dominic’s hand—a key card—and Dominic handed over the keys to his bike.

Then we walked inside, taking the back way.

We ran into no one and took the service elevator to the fifth floor.

The hallway was empty when the elevator doors opened, and Dominic wasted no time leading me into the room. The tremors I had felt all day never really left, and they were making themselves known to me the closer we got to the door.

I didn’t know what to do.

I struggled and dug my heels into the carpeted floor, and Dominic let out a frustrated growl and carried me up in his arms.

“No!” I screamed, but it was too late.

We were already inside the room.

He pushed the door closed behind us and turned on the light, setting me on my feet.

I took a small step back before I realized I was nearing the bed and stopped myself.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, walked over to the mini fridge without saying anything, and took out a bunch of small alcohol bottles.

He quickly downed one, turned to me, and opened a second one, drinking all that before throwing both bottles in the trash.

I swallowed.

“Tell me,” he demanded softly. I could hear the power in his voice.

I licked my suddenly dry lips and opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

I blinked at him.

He grabbed one of the bottles, opened it, and handed it to me.

Hesitantly, I grabbed it from his hands. It had looked tiny in his hand before, but now that I was holding it, I knew I couldn’t drink the whole thing like he had.

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