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SEVEN

She held her hair off her neck, fanning the damp skin with her hand. He sat in the driver’s seat, staring at her with dark, unblinking eyes. She’d forgotten how creepy he was, the weight of his unsettling stare making her skin crawl. She should never have let him force her inside, but she’d been too afraid to cause a scene. Now, the urge to fling open the door and throw herself out of the car was so strong that her legs trembled. He wouldn’t respond well to that, she was sure. He was, after all, a monster. Plus, they were alone. No one around for miles. Getting into the car with him had been a bad idea.

There was no turning back now.

“You’re afraid of me,” he said. His upper lip curled into a satisfied sneer.

She hoped he couldn’t see the shudder that worked its way through her body. “Why wouldn’t I be? We both know what—” The rest of the words died on her tongue as he leaned across the console.

He smelled like coffee and stale sweat. Like an old gym sock that hadn’t been washed in months. He must have been working outdoors all morning. It took effort not to gag. The door handle lodged under her rib cage as she backed away from him.

“I remember you,” he said.

Her stomach dropped. She didn’t think he would. Had counted on it, in fact.

A thick palm clamped down on her thigh. Slapping at his arm with both hands, she tried to twist away but his fingers dug into her flesh. A cry of pain tore from her throat. “Stop! Stop!”

The pressure eased as he loosened his grip, but he didn’t let go. Her heart galloped. Dizziness set the world around her spinning. Through heaving breaths, she said, “I don’t owe you anything. I’m getting out now. Let me go.”

A wolfish grin spread across his face. Releasing her leg, he slid his hand up her body until his fingers closed around her throat. Fear fisted her heart. The air in her lungs evaporated.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.