Page 15

That feeling of being followed was always the same. Your stomach clenched, your chest tightened like the lone voyeur was using your discomfort for their personal gain.

It was an uneasy feeling, knowing you’re being watched but you couldn’t figure out by who or why. In my case, I did know. It was someone from my past. From my years in that hell. I had been reassured by the authorities that I was finally safe, but was I really? They couldn’t give me a definitive answer on everyone who had escaped or who had a hand in the trafficking or their whereabouts, so I knew it was only a matter of time before at least one of them caught up with me. Add to the fact I never even stepped foot off of American soil, being trafficked within my own country made it almost seem worse somehow.

All I knew was that ever since I left the center fifteen minutes ago, I was being followed. Every time I looked over my shoulder, I didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary. But the farther I walked and the faster I picked up my pace, the more intense that same feeling became.

I should never have left the center, but I needed out of there. Sitting inside the same four walls day in and day out, could be detrimental to a person’s sanity. I needed to see something different. I loved the center and what it stood for. Everyone had been nothing but kind to me. I stayed there long past my shift until I had nothing else to keep me busy and decided to walk home. It was still early in the evening; the sun was high in the sky and my apartment was only a few blocks away. Walking and getting some fresh air was good for me, but today I regretted not taking a cab.

Once I turned the corner of another block, I recognized a familiar deli that I had never been to before but heard about often. Picking up my pace, I ran to the front doors. My eyes flicked to a beautiful motorcycle in the parking lot, my thoughts suddenly conjuring up a dark stranger. I wasn’t sure who the bike belonged to but a part of me hoped that maybe one day I could go for a ride on the back of Cyrus’s bike.

Before I could dwell further on a certain man, I was inside the deli. The bell above the door indicated my arrival, making my cheeks burn as patrons looked up from whatever they were doing.

With my head down, I held my bag to my chest and took a step down the aisle.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw a man in a hood coming toward the front of the deli. My heart picked up speed. I knew him. I didn’t know how I did but familiarity scratched over my skin like little knives, reminding me that I would never be rid of that place and my captors. No matter how much I tried, they would always be a part of me. It was what they wanted. They made it so and because of them, I would always be looking over my shoulder.

“Ainsley?”

I jumped, spun around, and found Cyrus standing in front of me.

Oh, thank God.

I remembered that he knew some sign language, but I couldn’t remember how fluent he was. But I still took a chance anyway. Pulling the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I lifted both hands.

Help me.

Cyrus frowned, his eyes flicking above my head before returning to me. “Tell me.”

A shiver raced down my spine at the deep command.I think that man has been following me.

Before I could say anymore, Cyrus closed the distance between us and wrapped his arm around my waist.

It had been a long time since I felt the contact of a man, let alone someone as intense as the one standing in front of me. When I looked for the sense of fear that he would hurt me and got nothing, I let out a slow breath of relief.

His eyes dropped to my mouth. “I got you, pet.”

My breath caught at the term of endearment. He had called me that when I first met him. I never understood why. Maybe I never would. But right now, I was thankful he was there.

He was much larger than I last remembered. I never noticed when I first met him weeks ago, just how big he actually was.

Cyrus bent at the waist, leaning toward me. His mouth pressed against my ear, his breath hot and inviting.

I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears, I was surprised he couldn’t hear it himself.

His mouth slowly moved down the length of my jaw. “Trust me,” he murmured against my skin.

As soon as the chime above the door jingled, indicating someone’s arrival, Cyrus crushed his mouth to mine.

My eyes widened, a small gasp leaving me. It was the only invitation he needed before slipping his tongue between my lips. The kiss deepened, pulling a moan from the back of my throat.

He grunted his approval, nipping my bottom lip. The sharp pain, although minimal, sent a jolt of pleasure through my nerves.

“He’s gone,” Cyrus murmured, breaking the kiss and pulling away from me.

The sense of loss I felt at him no longer being close, set off alarm bells inside of me. I couldn’t give myself to him, or to anyone for that matter. I was broken, a shattered mess and I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know how to fixme.

Cyrus stared at me, his eyes dark and molten with lust.

My cheeks burned at the intense scrutiny coming from him.