Page 42 of Catch Me When I Fall

Shaking my head, I took a step back once more. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You don’t have a choice,” he returned, his tone hard.

Bullshit I didn’t.

His words triggered me, unlatching the lock holding everything back since I escaped St. Louis.

“I have a say in what I do with my life,” I shot back, anger boiling inside me. My voice bounced off the walls of the house I’d grown to love and he sat back, his hands resting on his thighs, his face hidden in the shadows again.

“Throwing a temper tantrum won’t do you any good,” he deadpanned.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I repeated, louder this time. My chest began to ache as my throat started burning, and I knew the tears were next.

He said nothing, but I could feel his cold stare on me. The goosebumps still hadn’t faded, and I knew that, as long as he was looking at me, they would never go away.

“Who hired you?” I demanded. “Tell me.”

Silence.

I threw my hands up in the air, and turned away from him. “Unbelievable,” I muttered. “A fucking bounty hunter of all things.” My words faded as I bent my head, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the tears. Before I could stop it, a small sob left me, and I covered my mouth with my hand, wrapping my other arm around my soft mid-section.

Get it together, Carrie. Crying in front of him isn’t going to get you anywhere.

When I turned back to face him, he was still leaning back, but his hands were bawled into fists at his sides now. A single tear fell down my cheek as I whispered, “At least tell me your name.”

“Not relevant,” he bit out, his voice hard.

I swallowed down the burning glass in my throat. “I’m going to need someone to blame,” I continued softly, my nearly-healed heart crumbling now.

“For what?”

My voice cracked as I said, “For ruining my one chance at happiness.”

A dark, heavy silence filled the room, and suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Everything around us slowed as the Earth stopped spinning, halting the rotation of the moon and stars outside as well as the gentle breeze. My heart pounded inside my chest in a constant rhythm, banging like a war drum. A new wave of goosebumps spread over my skin, down my neck, down my arms, over my scars to my feet.

When the bounty hunter moved, the couch creaking under his weight, the sound like a war cry, I couldn’t move. My eyes remained on him as he rose to his full height, towering over me, and my body reacted. My nipples pebbled underneath my blouse as electricity shot down to my core, buzzing over my clit as my panties dampened.

He stood fully in the light now, and a very stupid part of me never wanted him to go back into the darkness. I felt like Nick Caraway from The Great Gatsby when he spotted Jordan Baker for the first time. She scared the shit out of him, but he enjoyed looking at her. The man—the very large man—in front of me scared me in ways I never thought I could be scared, but I wanted to stare at him forever. He reminded me of a disturbing painting, the only one in the museum that made people uncomfortable, but you couldn’t help but stare. I wanted to get lost in his dark beauty. He was a masterpiece.

How could I hate someone so beautiful?

His facial features were ice cold, brimming with malice as he took a single step towards me, the sound of his boots finally starting the war. My fight or flight refused to kick in as my lips parted, a quiet breath leaving me as he took another step, then another. I tilted my head back to look at him, and for the first time in my life, I felt small without having to try.

My mind went dizzy when he came to stop directly in front of me, my chest an inch from the bottom of his.

If I took too deep of a breath, I would brush against him, and if I did that, I would surely crumble.

I kept my chin lifted, holding my breath as he stared down at me. I had to stay strong. I didn’t understand why I was reacting to him this way, nor did I have the time to analyze it. I was fighting for my life—my happiness—and I’d be damned if he was going to take it from me.

Suddenly, he moved, and then he had my chin in his firm grip, his touch scorching my skin, chasing away the chill of his gaze and the goosebumps. A small sound left me as he yanked me to him, our bodies colliding, and that scorching fire was everywhere. His fingers were rough, his grip harsh, and yet?

I wanted to feel more of it. I wanted his touch everywhere.

With a shaky inhale, I moved, bringing my hand up to touch him, but he caught it with his free one, holding it in the air as he leaned down into my space. I was frozen. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, and once he was an inch away from my lips, I felt his thumb rub against the scar on my wrist.

My eyes widened, never leaving his as they flashed with a cautious fury.

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