Page 5

Against this… this…

Again, what the fuck is this?

My body is numb. Shock has stripped the fight off me.

Years of being an orphan and growing up in the foster care system had taught me better than this.

Get up. Get up. Get up.

Get. Up.

The heavy chair scratches the wood floor when I stand up abruptly. The sound is a thunder bumping across the room. The high ceilings.

“You’re delusional.” I point a finger at Topher, doing my best to rein in the tremors. “This is the twenty-first century. We’re in New fucking York. You don’t put people onauction. You don’t do anything without their consent.”

He lowers the fork and knife. “Sit down.”

His perfect façade has a crack in it. An emotion bursts through. Except this isn’t any better, being the subject of his wrath.

Another emotion flashes there, but it’s gone in a heartbeat.

Only wrath remains.

“No.” A high-pitched cackle slips past my lips. It’s funny. Hilarious. “No.”

Why am I even taking him seriously?

Maybe this is Topher having a tantrum. Maybe he sensed I was about to break up with him, so he’s being sour about it.

The guilt that’s been eating at me demands that I let him get it out of his system.

Thing is, I’ve never been a doormat. I punched one of my foster siblings’ throats for far less than this.

“Sit down,” he repeats.

I take a hesitant step away from him. The backs of my knees hit the chair.

“You’re clearly high.” This has to be it. Some rich people’s drug that makes them look lucid. “And I’m not waiting around for you to sober up. This dinner is over. James?”

His lips remain in that firm line I’ve come to know. I force myself to stop thinking about how devastatingly handsome he is.I won’t. I need to leave here. I need to focus on Topher, who’s closest to me.

“Fine. Fine. I get it. He’s your son. All right then. Finish your dinner.” I take a shaky step back, pushing the chair back with me. “Sleep it off. We’ll talk in the morning.”

We won’t. I’m blocking this crazy asshole everywhere.

My purse. I have to get it. Have to call my roommate, Sage. Her family comes from old money like Topher’s. They run in the same circles. Have known each other since birth.

She’s slumming it to stick it to her mom, but she can still ask her to help me. They have James’s address. They’ll send someone here to save me.

The police, even.

I probably won’t have a chance to say much other than scream for help before these two catch me.

I’m sure they will.

These men are tall. Lean. They won’t be running in heels.

But if I reach my phone before that, I’ll be saved.