Page 8

8

Tovah

W hat the hell was I doing?

This wasn’t like me. I didn’t get turned on by assholes, didn’t make out with guys I hated. Even though I could still feel Isaac’s lips on mine. Once upon a time, Isaac Silver kissing me was all I’d ever wanted, ever dreamed of. Now, it represented a nightmare I couldn’t seem to wake up from.

Or an opportunity , my mind supplied.

Right, an opportunity.

When Isaac had listed out his “rules” for me, every part of me wanted to protest. Even the parts that were attracted to him—and there were a lot of those parts. I couldn’t let him control me like that, own me like that. I refused to act like I liked him. I already felt trapped by his family, I couldn’t literally be trapped by him, too.

Until I realized what being around him that often would mean.

He’d called me “little snoop,” and he’d been right. Because being in his space would make it so much easier to snoop on him and his family, so I could find the evidence myself to take him down for good. He’d be watching me, but even Isaac needed to sleep and go to hockey practice. I’d find what I needed, write an article, publish it, and put his father behind bars.

And my mom and I would finally be free.

I know it shocked him when I went along with his little game, snuggling into him and giggling, but I had a game of my own to play. Which meant being the best actress I’d ever been. And it didn’t matter that he was an athlete. This one, I was going to win.

There was no other option.

One of us had to lose, and it wouldn’t be me. Losing would mean death for me, and discovery for my mom…which meant death for her, too. And I wasn’t letting that happen. I loved her too much, owed her too much, for that.

As I thought through this, Isaac was still carrying me down the street. It was around seven p.m., still too early for students to be out on Bar Row, so the sidewalk was empty. Thank god . I would be so embarrassed to be seen carted around by Isaac Jones like a child. Or worse, one of his?—

I refused to use the phrase “puck bunny,” even in my own head. It was offensive to the girls who were labeled that way, and I wasn’t about to play into the misogynistic bullshit that surrounded the hockey team.

One of his many girls, then.

When he reached his car, he set me down so he could unlock the door. But he surprised me, no, terrified me, when he backed me up against it, the cool metal against my back. He braced his arms on either side of me and leaned in so I was, once again, trapped.

“You’re going to pay for that bullshit back there,” he said.

“What bullshit?”

“Biting my goddamn lip. Giving me lip, especially in public. I never was into…punishment. But with you?” He seemed to think, and then his voice went thick, and he said, “I bet I could get into it. What do you think? Does pain get you off, little snoop?”

Oh, fuck this shit.

I hated the way my breathing sped up at his insinuation. I might need to get close to him to get the evidence I needed to free my mom and myself from our years-long nightmare, but that didn’t mean I’d let him talk to me that way. He thought I was going to let him fuck me? “Punish” me? Hell no. If I let him touch me that way, if I gave into my darkest desires…he’d destroy me. And it was that fear, more than anything else, that caused me to lean further back against the car and blink up at him.

“Maybe it does,” I murmured, intentionally wetting my lips with my tongue.

His eyes went hazy, and just as he leaned in, I raised my knee and shoved it into his dick.

With an oomph, he bent over, moving his arms to cover himself. I used the momentary distraction to shove him backward.

And ran.

I didn’t even look behind me. Even though I was a little out of shape these days, my body knew how to run. This time I wasn’t racing to win a medal for my team. I was getting away from a man who had the resources to kill me—or do worse.

Muscle memory kicked in, and I sprinted down the sidewalk back toward the bar. All I had to do was get inside and Alex would protect me.

Wait.

Shit.

If I went back into the bar, Alex would want to know why I was running from “Good Guy Jones,” when I’d just put on a loving girlfriend show minutes earlier. I’d have to tell him the truth. Alex was a friend and deserved to be safe. Now that Isaac was onto me, it no longer would be Alex vs Isaac, it would be Alex vs the entire Silver criminal enterprise. I couldn’t let that happen.

Frustrated, I ran straight past the bar. I was a sprinter, not a distance runner. Isaac had probably recovered by now, and it wouldn’t take long for him to catch me. Playing hockey and training regularly meant his stamina was better than mine. I’d never make it home safely.

But up ahead, two and a half blocks away, was a bus stop. I glanced at my watch. There was a bus arriving in two minutes. All I had to do was get to the bus stop and then Isaac would be shit out of luck.

Only two and a half blocks. I could do it.

Behind me, feet pounded the pavement. Based on the sound, he was only about a block behind and gaining quickly. Exhaling, I increased my speed, pushing my legs and lungs to their limits and putting more distance between us.

Half a block down. Only two to go.

The sound of him following me got louder, his pounding feet roaring in my ears.

I pushed myself harder. All I had to do was breathe and let my muscle memory do its thing.

One block now.

He was closer.

Was that his breath on my neck, or the wind?

Lungs burning, chest aching, I tried to push harder.

Only half a block now.

And here came the bus rolling down the street, headlights dispelling the shadows surrounding me.

Holy shit, I was going to?—

—A thick, muscular arm snagged me around the waist, dragging me backward. I opened my mouth to scream, and his other hand shot out to cover it, muffling the noise.

As he lifted me off the ground, I turned feral, scratching and kicking and biting, doing anything to get free. Doing anything to survive.

As we disappeared into a pitch-black alley, the bus continued past the stop and down the street, oblivious to the woman in desperate need of rescue.

But then I’d always rescued myself, hadn’t I? I’d never been able to rely on anyone but my mom.

I only prayed I could do it again.

Isaac shoved me up against a rough brick wall of a building, the pain and shock of it reverberating through my body. The only thing that kept me from a broken nose was his hand between my face and the wall.

What, was I supposed to thank him for that?

Behind me, he tsked in my ear. “You shouldn’t have done that. I was going to go easy on you, but I’m not feeling particularly merciful anymore.” Thoughtfully, he added, “But I guess I am a little grateful.”

“Why?” I gasped against his hand.

Cupping my breast with one hand and thrusting his hips against my ass so I could feel how hard he was, he said, “I never knew how much fun chasing down and catching my prey would be. Fuck, I’m going to like this.”

He leaned down, dropping a gentle kiss on my neck and surprising me.

And then he surprised me further when he bit my neck, so hard I screamed into his hand.

He must have broken skin, because when he backed up, spun me around, and kissed me violently, I could taste blood on his lips.

And, as truly and beyond fucked up as it was—I kissed him back.