Page 23 of A Forbidden Arrangement

“Got you.” Elliot sneers at me, grip tightening.

I scream, throat going dry as I claw at him, kick, thrash, anything to get loose. My hand dives into my purse, touching cool metal, and closes on the Taser. I rip it out and press the button. The zap cracks through the night, blue light illuminating his face.

I don’t hesitate to lunge forward, but he’s faster than me, dodging backward out of my reach.

“Get away from me,” I grind out, holding the weapon firmly between us.

His eyes go wide, then narrow as he assesses the situation.

“Put it down, Dahlia.”

I shudder at the sound of my name on his lips, the vowels twisted and drawn out.

He steps forward, testing me, daring me to falter.

“Stay back!” My hand trembles, but I don’t back down.

He wants me rattled. Wants me to fold.

Not a chance.

“If you stop,I promise not to kill you.” He lies so easily as he moves to close the distance.

I inch backward, planting my arms firm, sparks hissing between us. My heel catches on cracked concrete, and my stomach lurches as I stumble, then right myself. If I fall, it’s over. I wrench my foot clear and force another step. Then another.

Every part of me screams to run. To spin and bolt until my lungs rip open. But I can’t. The Taser is the only thing keeping him back. The second I drop it or turn away, I’m done.

My legs shake from adrenaline. Water slicks the street, each step more slide than stride. My head throbs where it connected with the wall, my vision wavers, and I have to blink several times to clear it.

His mouth curves, amused, like he’s already playing out how this ends.

It’s only as the shadow envelops me that I realize he’s backed me into an alleyway.

I stumble, arms flailing, the Taser dipping before I snap it back up. My pulse stutters, pounding in my ears, each of my breaths coming short and sharp.

“Get away from me.” Fear ripples through my words, making it more of a plea than a command.

A looming presence chuckles behind me, reminding me that I heard two doors slam. Something hard smashes into my already wounded head. This time, the force is enough to bring me to my knees.

“Goodbye, Dahlia.” Elliot’s voice is emotionless as he lifts a gun and points it at my face.

Hot tears stream down my cheeks as a scream rips from my chest, preparing for the inevitable impact.

I’m going to die here.

“Please,” I beg, and for a second, I think he listened.

Elliot turns, looking over his shoulder as a shadow of a man approaches. I stare at it, blank, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.

The ground tilts under me when the light reveals his features. The street squeezes in, my sight narrowing to a tunnel as the burn of vomit climbs up my throat.

A crack of a gun echoes in the alleyway. Warm liquid splatters my neck and head, and everything spins.

Xander Everette’s face contorted with rage is the last thing I see.

Chapter 12

Xander