Page 79 of Left in the Dark

Not only did Zayne give me some lessons in high school, but while in college, I convinced Callie to take a self-defense class with me. I enjoyed it so much that I regularly took classes over the years, vowing I’d never let a man hit me again. If onesomehow slipped beneath my radar, I had the skills to defend myself.

I was no longer a victim but a fighter.

My steps are confident as I move to the edge of the porch, my gaze locked on the bush. Like a ninja, I jump over the railing, my arm raised, ready to stab whoever the fuck is there.

But there’s no one.

Blowing out a breath, I lower the knife and pivot, nearly slamming into the massive man behind me.

CHAPTER 52

Delaney

Before I can react, the masked man plucks the knife out of my hand, tossing it behind him, then grabs me and spins me around, his gloved hand clamping over my mouth.

Jesus Christ. How does such a massive man move so quietly and quickly?

My fight instinct kicks in as I struggle against him.

I try to head butt him; he dodges it. I slam my foot down on his, but he moves it. I twist in his hold, getting my elbow loose and ram it back to connect with his chest, but he easily grabs it, stopping me. Predicting my every fucking move.

I’m sweaty and tired as I still, my warm breaths bouncing off his hand.

“Are you done?” His voice is mechanical like he’s using something to change it.

I slump in his arms slightly, inhaling the scent of his leather glove.

Then I spring into action, trying to headbutt him and ram my foot down on his. He easily avoids both maneuvers, his weird, mechanical-sounding laugh mocking me.

“Fucking asshole.” My voice is muffled by his large, gloved hand.

“Asshole, huh?”

He shifts slightly, his hand over my mouth loosening enough that I bite down on it.

Instead of wailing in pain and loosening his hold, the son of a bitch laughs. “Kinky. I like it.”

I spit out his gloved hand, the taste of leather left on my tongue disgusting.

Releasing my mouth, his hand slides to my throat.

I panic, fear slithering through my stomach, hissing like snakes. Nausea churns inside me as my breaths rasp in and out of my nose.

“Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going to choke you. I promise.” His voice is beside my ear, the white mask in my peripheral vision.

Panic engulfs me as I’m seventeen, and my father’s hand grips my throat, choking me. I gasp before coughing, my lungs stuttering inside my chest, even though the masked man isn’t squeezing.

“Look at me.” His commanding voice is so close to my ear that I jolt. Despite whatever voice-altering device he’s using, the sound of it is still sexier than hell.

Yeah, I must be losing my mind.

I tilt my head, my gaze traveling over the mask and to a pair of dark irises. They are both strange yet familiar, terrifying yet comforting, leaving me so confused that I don’t fight him.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Desire flares in his irises like gasoline feeds a flame.

My mouth and lips are dry, and when I part them, my tongue darts out, wetting them. The growl that comes from him, rumbling against my back, makes my panties wet.

“W-Who are y-you?” It comes out as a choked whisper despite him not applying any pressure to my throat.

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