Page 22 of Save Me

“Me?”

He nods.

My hand moves before I even contemplate what I’m doing.

Yet, Dae is quicker. He captures my wrist a split second before my palm makes contact with his face. His hold on my wrist is firm, tight, and just this side of painful. As much as I should, though, I don’t hate it. His touch.

It burns, but not in a way that makes me want to pull away. Quite the opposite, actually. Which is dangerous as hell.

“If you think I’m willing to sell my pussy for a few answers about Sebastian Blackmon, you’ve got the wrong girl,” I say through gritted teeth. I tug my wrist, but he doesn’t let go.

Underneath the gleam of the streetlights we pass, I can see his eyes darken. Which is a feat considering how dark they already are. I should be terrified.

A sane woman would demand the driver stop the car so she can get out. No, not get out. Escape. That’s what I should do.

Yet, I sit here. His hand wrapped tightly around my wrist. That dark glint in his eyes with hidden promises I can’t discern but am too damn curious to look away from.

“Let my hand go.”

“Say please.”

“Fuck. You.”

I expect my reply to set him off. To anger him. I’m prepared to defend myself if need be.

I’m not prepared for the throaty chuckle that fills the car. He’s laughing, but it’s not a hearty laugh. It’s a bit dry and rusty as if his vocal cords aren’t used to it.

It’s a laugh nonetheless.

Closing my eyes, I inhale, trying to hold onto my anger. This bastard just insinuated that I should sleep with him for answers to get information about Sebastian Blackmon.

I should be fucking livid.

Yet, my stupid heart kicks up a touch at the sound of his laughter. My entire body warms from his hand, which remains wrapped around my wrist.

I’ve taken self-defense training for just about the entirety of my childhood. I learned from my Uncle Brutus, my family’s head of security, how to not only injure a man three times my size but how to put him to sleep forever.

And how to make it hurt.

I could free myself from Dae Kim’s grip. But I don’t.

A fact I will spend half the night questioning myself about.

“I never asked you to sell your pussy for a few answers,” he says after a long, drawn-out silence. “We’re here,” he adds before I can reply.

He slowly releases my wrist. A cold I never knew before embraces my body. I don’t allow myself to question it as I turn to look out of the window. Sure enough, we’re directly in front of my building.

I reach for the door handle, but his hand covers mine. His touch ushers away the cold of a few seconds ago.

“Let me.” He moves before I can answer. He gets out on his side and rounds the car to open my door.

I think twice about taking the hand he offers to help me out. My hand moves before my brain does, though. As soon as I lay my fingers in his hand, his hold tightens. He tugs me, and I come up against his hard chest.

My breath hitches.

Dae doesn’t move or give me any space.

“What do you want from me?” I ask.