Page 17 of Betraying Family Vows

We round a bend and a small stone house waits at the end of a dirt path. It's barely visible in the moonlight, but I know the safe house is there.

"Stop here," I say.

She obeys, but I catch the flash of defiance in her eyes.

She brakes hard, tires crunching over gravel, as she halts the car twenty feet from the entrance.

"What the hell is this place?" she asks, looking around.

I grab the key fob, cut the engine, and before she can think, I'm out of the car and at her door.

I rip it open.

"Get out."

She hesitates. I lean in, fist in her hair, pulling her.

"You don't want me to drag you," I say sternly. "Walk."

She stumbles slightly in her heels as we approach the weathered door. I reach past her to a loose stone in the wall, retrieving the hidden key. Our bodies brush, and I feel her tense. Her warmth despite the cold.

"Inside," I say, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

She doesn't move.

I press the gun to the small of her back. "Move."

She steps inside. The floorboards creak beneath her heels. I follow, locking the door behind us.

The air inside is stale, musty, undisturbed. I flick on a light switch, illuminating sparse furnishings, a worn couch, table, chairs. Just the basics. A hallway leads to what she can't see: bedroom, bathroom, and a reinforced closet with supplies.

She turns, breathless. Scared. Her hair's a mess, lips parted, skin flushed.

Still too dangerous.

Too fucking beautiful. Goddamn it, why did she have to fucking drug me?

I tuck the gun in my boxer briefs behind me and draw a knife from the hidden drawer the lamp is on.

Her eyes widen. One sharp inhale.

"Wait—"

I walk toward her. Knife in my hand. Slowly.

She backs against the wall, hands flat against the stone.

"I… what are you doing?"

I stop inches from her, body towering over hers. I bring the knife up, watch her shiver when the cool steel touches the underside of her chin.

She tries to move, but I react faster. Using my left forearm, I pin her against the wall.

Her whole body goes rigid when the cold metal presses against her throat.

"You're going to be very still now," I tell her. "Understand?"

She nods, barely.