Page 98 of Keep Him Like Secrets

I was smaller, scrappy, and quick.

But each two of my steps was only one of his.

He grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking back so hard that I saw white.

“Who are you?” he asked, dragging me backward by my hair.

“Fuck you.”

“How do you know Soren?”

Soren.

Did this guy know Soren?

If so, how?

What was my move here?

Did I lie?

Stall?

But stall for what? No one was coming.

If what he wanted was information, at least I could use that to try to catch him off-guard enough to get free again, to get to a weapon, or even just get away.

I was in my neighborhood.

Once I got on the street, I could get away. Or find someone belonging to one of the crew to help me.

“How do you know Soren?” the man snapped again, yanking my hair harder.

I exhaled hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain.

“I’m working with him.”

“Working with him how?” he asked, loosening his hold on my hair.

He wanted the information more than he wanted to hurt me.

I could work with that.

“This is my place.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he roared. “This is Soren’s club.”

“It’sourclub.”

There was a pause then before he tugged my hair, forcing me to turn to face him.

“You’re his partner?”

“Silent. Yes.”

“Hmm,” he said, watching me with unnervingly keen hazel eyes.

Then, without giving me a single clue what he was going to do, he cocked back and punched me in the face.

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