Page 45 of I Still Love You

Nothing.

It’s so damn quiet you could hear a pin drop. My stomach churns in frustration and fear when Layla comes to mind. She was right the fuck in front of me. So was Andrew. How the hell did they disappear down the adjacent hall so damn fast? No matter how much I question it, logic grips me by the back of the neck and lowers until it’s staring straight into my hard, green eyes.

You can’t make sense of it because it didn’t happen, Luke. They never rounded the curve. Something is wrong. Turn into the alcove and see if that’s where the shriek came from.

Do it. Take another step. Just one more.

And I do. I move quietly but swiftly into the opening of the narrow hall. And the minute I do, my vision turns the darkest shade of red I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing when I see Andrew’s body holding Layla hostage.

There’s that saying where it only takes a second for something to happen, but that’s bullshit. A second is too long. The most crucial and devastating events happen in a fraction of a second.

I know for a fucking fact that my body moves the fastest it ever has because I don’t get a breath out. Nor a blink. Or a thought. I dart for Andrew, ready to pry his vermin hands from my ex as my nostrils flare and the muscles in my neck cord into an intense braid of fury.

And then, I black out.

20

Layla

A shiver runs over my skin, once clammy from the outside temperature, now chills from the cool indoor air, along with the predicament I find myself in. I try to swallow, but I can’t form a mouthful of spit if I try. My heart pounds against my chest ferociously. Badly, it wants out of this position, and I can’t say I blame it. I want as far away from Andrew as humanly possible. If he hadn’t yanked me out of the hallway and propped his forearm against my throat, I would be.

I try to force the shake in my legs away, but I’m already working to keep the tremble discreet. I cringe at the idea of him feeding off my fear, using it to get what he wants out of me.

“This was a long time coming,” Andrew snarls into my ear, his nose trailing down the shell of it.

As strange as it sounds, I wish I had put earrings on this morning. Then his skin wouldn’t be flush against mine so much. I picture them on my vanity back at the house and criticize myself. “The hell it was,” I snap back, shoving my shoulder off the wall. “Get off me!”

His arm pushes into my throat, causing my breathing to cut off for a beat before he loosens his hold. My fingers curl around his forearm. He’s so much heavier than me, so much stronger. “Shut the hell up. You’re going to attract attention,” he mutters harshly before pulling back slightly.

I squeeze my eyes shut and force the bile rising in the back of my throat down. Between him holding me against the wall of the alcove of the restrooms and having his cologne invade my senses, I’m ready to heave. “Wh—What i-is it that you…want?” I choke out, my throat sore from the weight of his arm.

I always knew Andrew was shady and creepy and a damn jerk, but I would’ve never assumed him capable of this; of dragging a woman into a secluded area unwillingly and assaulting her. I would’ve never entertained him over the years if I’d known. I would’ve never given in to his snarky remarks.

Jesus. Why did I?

God, please get me the hell out of here.

“You should know the answer to that,” he says as he moves his leg between mine. He pushes it into my pelvic bone sharply, causing my stomach to dip with terror as pain spreads.

How has no one needed to use the bathroom in the last few moments or simply heard us? Please, I silently beg. Someone, please use the fucking restroom. Interrupt what this disgusting human specimen is doing.

He pulls his face back, and I hate the way he looks. From the dewiness of his overheated skin to the way his eyebrows slightly crease with authority. And don’t get me started on his smirk, on the way his stupid lips curl higher the longer he has me alone. The more fear he sniffs out of me, the more his face twists with anticipation, with a desire he doesn’t see reflected in my eyes because I’m looking at him with hatred, with repulsion, with deep-seated animosity. And him? He’s a wolf about to take what he wants despite it.

As much as he thinks he’ll walk away from this unscathed, or worse—with me by his side—he’s sorely mistaken. He’ll go down for this. I’ll make sure of it. But first, I need to figure out a way to get the hell away from him.

I jostle my body against the wall, knowing his arm will steal my breath again, but the rattle is worth it. “Get off me!” It’s just enough for him to stumble to the side. And I take it as my chance, as an opportunity to dart out of the alcove and scream for help. I get a step away before he grips my biceps and yanks me back against the wall. I thud against it, the back of my head bouncing like a basketball off it, causing a sharp, sudden pain to spread.

“I see the way you look at me despite whatever lie is going on between you and Luke, and I saw the eyes you gave that guy who walked up to your booth. You think I don’t see the way you flirt with me?” He grips my chin hard, pinching it between his thumb and index finger, and I wince. “You tease me with that smart mouth of yours. Every. Fucking. Time. I see you, Layla. I saw you all those years ago,” his eyes glide down the side of my neck to my chest, “and I see you now.”

I close my eyes and inhale as deep as my body allows with the amount of fear moving through me.

“Open your fucking eyes,” he demands in a muted voice.

When I chance a glance at his sinister face, I squirm again. It’s mostly out of instinct, and I bring my hips away from the wall, attempting one last time to pull my shoulders free, my movements jerky. Andrew keeps a tight hold of me and moves to hold my wrists painfully above my head. His free hand glides down the side of my body, nipping into my waist before skimming up to my breast. His disgusting, probing hand sears into my scrubs, and it’s almost like I can feel him on my skin, on my bare body, as he robs my consent from me.

“Just you wait,” he says quietly, “we’re going to have something special, you and me.” He presses his waist into me, holding me still, his hand tightening around my small wrists after combing his fingers roughly through my hair.

“We have nothing. Please,” I whisper hoarsely. “Let me go, Andrew. Let me go, and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

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