Page 4 of Nine of Swords
A flood of mixed feelings washes over me as the man closes in on me. Relief, regret, some grief. I try to take comfort in the possibility that if this is the end, maybe there’s an afterlife. I never believed that was possible or had faith in anything greater than myself. The only faith I ever had was in my knife collection and my self-defense training. I believe in what’s in front of me, but who knows. I can be wrong. Maybe God exists. Maybe I’ll go to a better place and see Mom and Dad again.
No matter how the next little while plays out, life will go on and the world will keep on spinning. I just wish this son of a bitch in my home would hurry up and get it over with.
5
Sydney
“Don’t move,”says the large, husky, masculine sounding man behind me as his hand lands on my shoulder.
“Leave now if you want to stay alive,” I answer, deepening my voice to put more ferocity behind the order. In truth, it sounds that way because I also don’t want to move a muscle. I know exactly what damage this knife can do if I make the slightest of movements, even a twitch or the wrong kind vibration along my neck.
His other arm wraps and tightens around my waist and my folded arms, disabling me, stopping me from defending myself with a strong, rough jerk I wasn’t expecting, then holds me tight to his hard body so I’d be still. I feel the warmth of his skin on my outer wrist and the back of my hand. His palms are rough, except for the smoothed spots which must've been filed down to keep his calluses from becoming too hard. I’m not sure why I noticed that one thing, but I do, and want to slap myself for not holding my focus on the real issue. The fact that this man unlawfully entered my home and has disarmed me with virtually no resistance on my part.
“You’re not really in a position to make threats, Miss Adams.”
“And why not? You’re threatening me in my own home. I have a right to defend myself by any means necessary. And when I do, if I inflict deadly force, I’ll be justified.”
“I’m not here to harm you,” he tells me.
I push against his body, my back and ass giving him a shove at his lower abdomen, upper thighs, as well as the substantial bulge that hits my lower back suggestively when he gets closer. But now is not the time for appreciating his natural gifts. I need to resist, distract him, find my opening, then exit the situation, hopefully with his massive frame flat on the floor when I render him unconscious somehow. “What then?” I shriek. “Why the hell are you here?”
“Hush. There’s no time,” he answers. “We need to be quiet, and we have to go. Right now. But you have my word that I’ll explain later.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I insist, my voice lowering. I don’t know why I did that one thing he asked, but if there’s a valid reason for him being here, and if making loud noises can end up hurting me, I’ll humor him for now. “You should know that I’m not fighting you back… yet… because I have no idea what weapons you might have ready to hurt me. Just bear in mind that I might be small, but I can bring down a world of hurt on your big, lumbering ass.”
“Listen to me, little girl. I meant to show up a day or two from now to introduce myself personally and make you aware of my being assigned to you, but those plans had to be set aside when I saw those men attack you outside your office.”
“You saw that I fought off three men by myself and you still decided to show up here alone? That was a dumb move. And what do you mean you were assigned to me?”
“I told you I’d explain later,” he grunted rudely. “Now, do you want to use the next five minutes to grab your purse, GO-bag, and whatever else you and I can carry? Or do you want me to drag you out of here with nothing?”
“Neither, because I’m not walking out that door to go anywhere with you!” I shout.
“Keep your voice down.” His hand at my shoulder moves up and covers my mouth, I can’t ignore the woodsy, masculine smell of him now that it’s literally right under my nose. As hard as I try, I can’t stop my core from clenching in response. I curse under my breath. Not because he’s stopping me from speaking, but because of the instantaneous reaction of my body to his touch. My pulse jumps, my skin warms, and my sensitive spot begins to tingle. My body has no business responding to this man. None at all. But someone forgot to send it that memo.
Anger and embarrassment rise up in me. This man has caught me off guard and my ability to think is muddled up, confounded in this unexplainable physical reaction to his proximity.
I hate it.
With a slight tilt of my hips, I lift up one heeled foot and come down hard, stomping on his foot with everything I have, but can quickly tell it had no effect. He's wearing steel toe military boots, unlike the men I fought back in the alleyway earlier.
I try to reiterate that he's messing with the wrong girl, but only muffled sounds come out. Still, he must have damned good instincts. He lowers his head to mine from behind me, and his lips hover so close to the whorl of my ear that I can feel his hot breath.
"No. I have the right, little girl. And you're lucky that I do. Now be quiet so I can save that sweet round ass you keep rubbing on my groin."
This smug, arrogant asshole.
I bite some flesh in his palm and he loosens his grip for a brief instant. It's not long, but I manage to find an opening.
"Release me if you want to see another sunrise," I cry out the warning.
"I will see many more, young lady. Don't be an amateur. I'm not here to hurt you, unlike the rest of the men you've crossed paths with since you stepped out of your office building. All of whom want to kill you."
"How would you know that if you're not in league with them?"
He chuckles "It's my job to know. And they will, kill you I mean, if you keep operating like a petulant child. And by the way, you have three minutes left to gather up what you want to take with you."
“You have some nerve,” I seethe.
