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A man with a heavy voice much like Rurik’s states his name and that’s all. Rurik ends the call without leaving a message.

“Guess he’s busy.” He slides the phone back into his pocket. “No more wasting time. I have work to do.”

He gestures toward the door, my bag swinging from his hand as he moves.

“No.” I stumbled back a step. “I’m not going with you.”

He turns tired, annoyed eyes on me. “This discussion is over. I’m out of patience.”

“Patience? You mean you possess some?” I move behind the TV tray I use as a table in the living room as though it can somehow protect me. But he keeps coming at me.

With no other options, I grab the tray and throw it at him while darting to the left. He merely swats it away like some errant fly and snags me up as soon as I’m within reach.

The door is only seven feet away, but it might as well be in another county.

By some miracle I get out of his grip, but it only lasts a moment before his hand sinks into my hair, fisting at my scalp. I’m pulled back into the stone wall that is his chest, nearly knocking the air from my lungs.

I wince as his hand tightens. He’s going to rip my hair out by the roots if he keeps this up.

He frog walks me back to the kitchen and shoves me until my face is pressed against the wall. Pushing my palms against the flat surface, I shove hard, trying to get away, but he only presses his body against me. Squishing me.

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble because of your recklessness. That ends now. You’re going home and sorting everything out.” He lifts his hips back from me and in the next second I hear the distinctive sound of a belt buckle being undone.

“When I tell you we’re leaving, you come. You don’t run away. You don’t throw things at me.” There’s a little growl at the end of that sentence as he rips the belt from his jeans.

My entire body clenches at the sound, and I start my struggle up again.

“Stand still!” He pulls my hair, sending a shockwave of heat through my scalp.

“Please. Just leave me alone.” Tears well up in my eyes as his fingers remain in my hair.

“I will, once we’re home and I drop you off. Then you can be Alexander’s problem.”

He grabs one of my wrists and then the other, pulling them hard behind my back. I wait for more pain, for him to do something to me, but he rests his chin on my shoulder.

“Behave, Mira, or the next time I take off my belt it will be to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

While my mind swirls around the meaning of that statement, he wraps his belt around my wrists, binding them together. As soon as I figure out what he’s up to I restart the struggle against him. But he’s practically Goliath, and I’m all out of rocks.

“Let’s go.” He jerks me away from the wall and throws open the door. Somehow, he manages to grab my bag that he dropped before leading me down the steep stairs.

There’s only a streetlamp that illuminates the porch, and by the time we’re street level we’re shrouded in darkness. There’s some commotion around the corner, probably coming from the movie theater if it just let out.

I think to scream, to call out for help, but Rurik squeezes my arm, letting me know he’s already considered I might do that. And I shouldn’t.

When we get to his car, a black SUV that looks likeeveryone else’s SUV in this town, he opens the passenger door.

Don’t get taken to a second location.

The tips and tricks taught to us growing up flash through my mind. If I get in this car, I may not actually be going home. Alexander could be anyone. I still have no proof Megan is safe and with him.

“I have a nice spot in the back I can tie you down if you’d prefer.” His voice, deep and raw, sends shivers through me.

I wish I could say it was all fear. But I’m a sucker for a good voice. And he has a damn good voice.

“I don’t want to go.” I look up at him, hoping he can see how sincere I am in this.

“I don’t care.” He bends forward and picks me up like I’m some three-year-old who can’t climb into her seat and plops me in the car.