Page 141 of Desperate People

Like I’ve peeled back every layer and stepped into the light with my heart beating on the outside of my chest.

I don’t know if it’s the outfit or the cameras or just the weight of this whole damn day, but a strange unease starts to creep in.

And somewhere beneath the glitter and tulle, a chill skates over my skin like a warning.

No one notices when I slip past the flaps at the side of the tent.

The makeshift perimeter is only a few feet away, set up with caution tape and guarded by the Sigma guys I’m sure my overprotective hubby called in.

I don’t go far—just beyond the lights.

Behind where the crowds are being kept at bay.

I just need a breath.

I lean against a tree just inside the line, face tilted toward the sky, the early sun soft and cool on my skin.

It’s louder out here, with the low roar of the crowd just beyond the cordons, but the air is better. Fresher.

I press my hand to my chest.

I want my husband. There is no use denying it.

Balor.

He’s been incredible.

Steady. Protective. Unapologetically mine.

I don’t know what I did to deserve a man like him.

Maybe I don’t.

Maybe that’s why I’m so scared—because it feels too good to last.

All I know is right now, right this second, it almost feels like I have everything.

And of course, that’s when the universe takes it away.

A shadow looms behind me.

There’s no time to scream.

An arm snakes around my waist, and a cloth covers my mouth. The scent hits me—sharp, chemical, dizzying.

Chloroform.

Panic explodes in my chest. I twist. Kick. Fight like hell.

My elbow connects with something—someone.

A curse is hissed in my ear, a sharp pain bursts against my temple.

“No—” I gasp against the cloth, the word barely a whimper.

I’m dragged backward.

Through the trees. Away from the crowds. Away from everything. Away from him. My love.

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