Page 19 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Simon barks a laugh that bounces off the elevator walls. “That’s what they want you to think! That’s how they control you, by tricking you into believing the choices are yours! But he was at the signing, pretending to bump into you!”

His fingers dig into my hand until I wince, but the pain brings focus, reminding me that I need to play along if I want to escape.

“You’re right.” I relax my posture. “I need to step back and see the bigger picture.”

Hope flashes across Simon’s face, and his grip loosens. “I’ve been trying to tell you. I can protect you from everything. I’m the Alpha meant for you.”

But he’s a Beta. I can smell it beneath the artificial cologne he wears, but his delusion runs deeper than I realized. He truly believes he can replace the Alphas in my life.

His thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand in what he intends to be a soothing gesture, but it sends revulsion crawling up my arm.

“We’ll go somewhere they can’t find us. I have a place all ready, with bookshelves for your collection and a writing desk by the window.

You can finish your next novel in peace, away from all their influences. ”

The depth of his delusions leaves my knees shaking. “How will we escape?”

“I have a car ready.” Simon releases my hand to stab at the elevator buttons.

My mind races with half-formed plans. “That’s so clever of you.”

As the elevator descends, Simon straightens, becoming more confident that he’ll get away with this.

The indicator above the door blinks. Three… Two…

The elevator stops before reaching the ground floor, and the doors part with a cheerful ding.

In front of us stretches a hallway that mirrors mine upstairs, giving a sense of déjà vu, as if we hadn’t gone anywhere at all.

Same beige walls, same bland artwork, and same potted plant by the stairwell door.

Simon’s fingers dig into my upper arm as he peers out into the corridor. His breath comes quick and shallow with excitement, his pulse jumping in his neck.

“Why aren’t we going to the ground floor?” The question trembles despite my efforts to remain calm.

Simon’s head turns one way, then the other to check the hallway. “Cameras in the lobby. Security desk. Too many people.” His words come in clipped fragments, each one stoking my fear higher. “This is better. Service stairs lead to the back lot.”

He’s planned everything from the delivery disguise to the escape route. How long has he been mapping out ways to take me? My skin crawls at the thought.

“What if someone spots us?” I ask, trying to sound concerned rather than hopeful.

Simon’s lips stretch into a rictus grin. “The second floor is all storage and maintenance. No one comes here this time of evening.”

My mind races. Dominic must have discovered my absence by now. He might have called the building security or even the police. But would anyone think to check the second floor?

Simon tugs me toward the open doors. I resist, digging my heels into the elevator floor.

“What about cameras here?” I gesture toward the ceiling.

“Dummy cameras on this floor. Budget cuts three years ago.” He shakes his head in disgust. “This place should be sued for false advertising about their security system.”

The detailed knowledge of my building’s security scares me. This is no impulse kidnapping. He’s been planning this, perhaps for years .

Simon steps forward, his grip loosening as he peers into the hallway. “Wait here while I make sure the way is clear.”

For a heartbeat, I’m stunned by his instruction. He’s leaving me in the elevator alone? But his next words clarify.

“Don’t try anything.” His free hand moves to grip the collar of my T-shirt. “I’ll be right in front of the doors. One wrong move, and I’ll drag you out by your hair.”

He steps into the hallway, his back to me but his head turns to keep me in his peripheral vision. Just one step. Two. His fingers clutch the fabric of my shirt, and the close door button is less than an arm’s reach away.

My pulse thunders in my ears, so loud I’m certain Simon must hear it.

“Coast is clear down this way.” Simon takes another half-step forward, his grip on my shirt stretching the fabric so tight it cuts into my neck. “We’ll go?—”

I move before conscious thought forms. My arm snaps up, breaking his hold. In the same motion, I lunge toward the control panel, fingers outstretched toward the Close Door button.

Simon’s reflexes are faster than I expected. He pivots, his face contorted with rage. “No! ”

My palm slams on the button. The doors shudder and begin to close with agonizing slowness. Simon lunges forward, his body crossing the threshold as the gap narrows.

I have seconds. Less than seconds. With every ounce of strength I possess, I drive both hands into Simon’s chest. The impact sends shocks of pain up my arms, but Simon’s not braced for it. He stumbles backward into the opposite wall, the back of his head connecting with a sickening thud.

The doors continue their inexorable slide toward each other. Simon pushes himself off the wall, face twisted in fury and disbelief.

He launches himself toward the narrowing gap.

Heart hammering, I shrink into a corner of the elevator. His fingers shove into the shrinking space between the doors, scrambling for purchase.

“Chloe!” he shouts, rage cracking through the air.

The doors touch his fingers, pause, and then begin to retract, the safety feature sensing an obstruction.

Pure panic surges through me. I lunge forward and drive my shoulder into his hands with all my weight behind it.

Simon howls as his fingers are crushed between my body and the door edge. Reflexively, he yanks his hands back, and the doors resume closing, sealing shut with a final definitive thunk .

I collapse backward, gasping for breath. Did I break his fingers? It should horrify me, but instead, savage satisfaction fills me for buying myself precious seconds.

I shake as the elevator continues its descent to the lobby as I imagine Simon racing for the stairs, determined to intercept me. My fingers find the emergency call button, and a buzz sounds, followed by static filling the small space.

Come on, come on . What kind of emergency hotline is this?

L lights up on the display, and I make myself as small a target as possible. If Simon beat me down the stairs, if he’s waiting just outside…

A soft click comes from the speaker, followed by an automated response, “Calling for assistance.”

The doors slide open, revealing a tall figure standing directly in front of the elevator, and I scream before I can stop myself.

Then my brain catches up with what I’m seeing.

“Dominic.” His name comes out as a broken sob.

“Chloe?” He takes in my disheveled appearance, the terror etched on my face. “What happened? I heard?— ”

I launch myself into his arms, my body colliding with his solid chest. His citrus-and-musk pheromones fill my nostrils, replacing the artificial vanilla-and-pine that had suffocated me.

His arms close around me, strong and secure. “What happened?”

“Simon. He was dressed as the delivery man. He tried to take me,” I choke out, the words tumbling out in a disjointed stream. “Second floor. Stairs. He might be coming.”

From within the elevator, the speaker crackles. “This is emergency services, do you need help?”

Dominic’s body tenses, his hold on me tightening. “No, sorry. But thank you.”

The line clicks off, and he half turns to someone who stands behind us. “Security to the stairwell. Second floor. Man in delivery uniform. Attempted kidnapping.”

Voices and the squawk of radios move around us, but I can’t bring myself to lift my face from Dominic’s chest. His heartbeat pounds beneath my cheek, strong and steady, telling me I’m safe. That Dominic will always come to save me.

“I called the police when you vanished,” he murmurs into my hair. “Building security is already searching. You’re safe now.”

My fingers clutch at his shirt, bunching the fabric. The adrenaline that kept me functional drains away, leaving me trembling.

“He knew things about me,” I whisper. “From university. About my parents. Things no one should know.”

Dominic’s arms tighten around me, his chin resting on top of my head. “We’ll figure it out. I’ve got you.”

“I don’t want to go back to my apartment.” I tug him down so my nose can find that spot behind his ear where his pheromones are strongest, needing to soothe myself. “Not ever again.”

He kisses my forehead in reassurance. “You don’t have to. I’ll go back up and get you anything you need.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve got you, Chloe.” He rubs my back. “I’ve got you.”

The reassuring words seem to be for himself every bit as much as they are for me. Then he shifts and lifts me into his arms to carry me toward the building manager’s office, past the curious and concerned faces of neighbors and security personnel.

I snuggle closer and focus on the steady rhythm of my Alpha’s heartbeat.