Page 44 of Single Mom's Bodyguards
His eyes narrow. “Doesn’t matter. Not really. Whoever made you think you were anything more than a pet, he’s gone. You are my pet, and you always will be. One way, or another.” Those eyes dart past me, over the edge of the railing. “Bet it’s a nice breeze on the way down. Wanna find out?”
My heart slams. I’m shaking. I can’t breathe. Panic claws at me from the inside. I have nowhere to go—the railing is pressed against me at the small of my back. I’ve never been able to fight him. Take a slap, sure. But fighting is another beast entirely.
He moves one hand toward my throat like he’s testing how far he can go. “I remember how much you loved it when I choked you. How much you liked it, the closer you were to death. The way you’d climax right before blacking out. Are you wet right now?All that fear coursing through your veins? Do you think you’d orgasm from falling off the roof?”
14
SEAN
The second she disappears,I can’t breathe right.
One minute Bailey’s on the ballroom floor, eyes catching mine like a tether that never slips. The next, she’s gone. Walking off with David like it’s nothing. No nod. No cue. No whisper. No lie we rehearsed.
Dancing with him here was one thing. Vanishing, however, is unacceptable. And she’s just gone. That’s not how we do things.
I’m on my way to the elevator corridor when Wesley catches me by the shoulder. “Where is she? I thought you had eyes-on.”
“Unsure. She slipped out with David. I’m starting with the roof. You and Huck hit this floor and the valet.”
“Fuck.” He’s already moving to intercept Huck.
I head for the elevators, fast and quiet. People think the worst danger is in dark alleys and parking garages. They’re wrong. It’s places like this. Gilded floors. Marble accents. Lobbies full of people pretending they don’t see what’s right in front of them. It’s worse here because you think you’re safe in a crowd ofpeople. You drop your guard. You let the danger get to you, and before you know it, it’s too late.
Not again.
I hit the elevator button twice—once out of habit, once out of fury—and flex my fists while the doors crawl open.
David wouldn’t hurt her here. Not where there are witnesses. But hurt doesn’t always mean bruises. Sometimes it’s leverage. A whisper. The threat of exposure. The right comment in the right ear at the right time to ruin a career.
Bailey is standing on the edge of the biggest opportunity of her life. He knows it. And he’susingit. I’m sure of that. Assholes like him know where the pain points are, and they use them to their advantage.
I ride up in silence, listening to the gears grind, heart hammering under my ribs. When the doors open, wind slaps me across the face.
The rooftop is big. Cold. Unlit except for the low glow of perimeter lighting. Planters line the edge, and there’s an angular bench in the center no one’s using. Everyone’s inside, drinking and posturing. Out here, it’s dead quiet.
And then I see them.
Bailey stands near the railing, hands gripping, her black gown rippling in the wind. David stands too close, shoulders angled like he’s trying to block her view. One hand lifts toward her throat.
I cross the roof in a flash and grab him by the collar.
His head snaps toward me, eyes wide. “Hey?—!”
I punch him square in the jaw before he gets another word out.
He drops like a stone. Dead weight on the tile. His head hits hard, and for one second, I think he might try to get up. But he doesn’t. He’s out cold.
I’m breathing hard. Not from effort. From restraint.
I ache to hit him again. But I don’t. Because she’s watching. I turn to her slowly.
Bailey’s still frozen. Still gripping the railing like her hands might crack. Her eyes are huge, and for the first time since I met her, she lookstrapped.
“Breathe,” I say.
She sways slightly, like she’s only just realized her feet are still on the ground.
“Did he hurt you?”
