Page 135 of Stand: Part One

“Time to go,” Owen said soberly.

Swallowing back the dread coating my mouth, I stepped away from the table with shaky knees and allowed them to escort me back to the private elevator. The second the doors closed on us, I lost my breath.

“He’s going to kill that girl.”

They said nothing. The panic rose.

“I can’t,” I inhaled. “I can’t let him do this.” I started to fucking shake.

Both of them turned their heads to eye me over their shoulders.

“Don’t make me sedate you,” Clive threatened.

Desperation burst into fury.

“Goddammit, fuck both of you! I can’t?—”

“What are you gonna do, huh?” Owen started, turning around to crowd me in the small space. “Follow him? Barge in and physically stop him? You know damn well the outcome of that.”

“I don’t care. I could warn her?—”

“You’re too late. She’s already been tagged. Now, let it go.”

The elevator doors opened to our floor and instead of waiting for me to follow, they both took hold of my elbows and pulled me into the suite, releasing me only when I was back inside the bedroom.

“Stay in here and behave,” Clive warned. “Test me once and you’re out for the night.” And then he shut the door, locking me in.

“You fucking bitches!” I shouted back, kicking my heels off into the door. “I want my fucking dog!”

Camaro was still with the staff who tended to her when she couldn’t be with me. Now would be a good fucking time to bring me my emotional support boss into the room.

Moving to the dresser, I yanked at the back of my dress, searching for the fucking zipper so I could finally get out of the wretched thing. Desperate, I tore at the fabric, taking my frustrations out on the ridiculous gown until it was a mess of ribbons on the floor.

But it satisfied nothing.

Pulling at the drawers, I searched until I found one of my workout skorts and a tank top, and dressed myself in a mad rage. And then I paced along the room for what felt like hours until my shoulders hurt from the tension.

Maybe it was better if I was sedated.

At least then I wouldn’t have to feel like this. Helpless. Weak. Useless. Again.

I felt sick knowing I was tied to a man who was having an innocent woman killed somewhere in this very moment.

Marching my ass to the window, I ripped the curtains open, ready to yank the door wall open to step out for fresh air. Until I heard Clive yell from the living room.

“Jaden! I swear to God, if you open that door!”

I leaned my forehead against the glass in defeat and exhaled my grief.

Motherfucker. I could just kill them both, right?

And then I realized Camaro still hadn’t been brought back.

“Where the fuck is my dog!” I shouted in return, really wondering where the hell she was.

My thoughts of turmoil and murder were then immediately interrupted when the power went out. All the lights in the room went dark, as did the light from outside the door. Glancing back toward the window, I could see the rest of the hotel was still lit, so it was only our area. That was a bad sign.

Moving quietly toward the bedroom door, I listened for any sound but couldn’t hear anything distinct. The silence lasted far too long, making me grab the butterfly knife I’d hidden in my luggage.