Page 137 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

“Have a drink with me first!” He laughed.

“No, later!” I said. “I’ve had too much too close together. I need to dance it all out.” I bounced around and shook my hips as I spoke to him, moving backwards and holding my hand out to him as I waited for him to take it and follow me.

He eyed my hand, then glanced at Imogen, who waved him away.

He took my hand, and I grinned in victory, then led us back out to the dance floor. The crowd parted, making room for Ramón’s tall form, and I giggled.

“We should have brought you with us the first time!” I told him, and he just shook his head at me.

Ramón’s presence next to me kept the other men at the club at a respectful distance as we danced together. I hadn’t noticed before how they’d been getting closer than necessary, but with him near me, I realized what had been happening when it was just us girls.

I lost track of time again as we danced until I felt a heavy gaze on me. People had been watching me all night, but this one was different—predatory. I moved closer to Ramón, my dancing slowing and eyes scanning the club, trying to find the source of the stare that made me uncomfortable.

Ramón picked up on my cues and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his body, his hand on my lower back in a subtle gesture that told others to back off.

“Thanks,” I whispered as we kept dancing, and he nodded and gave me a tight smile before his eyes started scanning the crowd and the club.

“Let’s go back to the bar,” he suggested, his head dipping down to my ear, and I swallowed and took his hand, clinging to it.

But before we could reach the bar, the music scratched to a stop, and the lights shut off. The power in the club was completely cut.

The sounds of screams, shouts and rushing footsteps filled the club, and in the chaos, my hand was wrenched out of Ramón’s and I was pulled into the throng of people trying to find an exit.

Cell phones were pulled out, screens and flashes turned on to help see better, but all it did was create more chaos and made it harder for me to tell which direction to go in to get to my friends or the exit.

I tried to shove down my panic, but it rose along with everyone else’s, making it difficult to think straight and keep my head.

A hand grabbed mine and pulled me out of the crowd into a small, dark alcove. I tugged against their hold on me, aware that whoever had grabbed me wasn’t one of my companions for the evening, but their grip was too tight.

“Let me go!” I cried as they tugged me up against their large, muscular body.

I tensed as I inhaled, recognizing the harsh, cloying scent of the cologne. My eyes widened, and I fought harder, pushing against his chest, but it was futile.

He had always been stronger than me, and always used it to his advantage to get me to comply. Never straight-up abuse, but the threat of it was always there, lurking under his actions.

Lennox lowered his head to my ear, his hot breath and mouth making me gag. “Happy Birthday, Haven,” he said.

“Lennox,” I replied in a small voice, reverting to the timid version of myself he always preferred, even though I was no longer under his thumb.

My entire being screamed in protest as he pulled me by my wrist to the back of the alcove and through a door, out into the alley behind the club. I cried out, trying to get the attention of anyone that may be around.

But the chaos inside the club was the perfect distraction, and no one seemed to notice as we exited the building. I fought against his hold, but it was pointless.

My panic rose again, and tears threatened to fall, but I didn’t let them. I didn’t let the panic take hold.

His hand left me, and I let out a breath and turned to escape, but my relief was short-lived. He pressed me against the dirty alley wall, his hand wrapped around my throat as tight as he could make it while still letting me take shallow breaths.

His ice-blue eyes stared at my face, his glare harsh and heavy, worse than I had ever seen. His blonde hair was unkempt and greasy, adding to the overall feral behavior.

And he was pissed. At me, or something else, I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter because I would be the one to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“I knew it was too much to hope that fate would give you to me,” he grumbled, his pupils darkening. “But I will still make you mine.”

“You’re delusional,” I choked out, my hands tugging at his wrists, trying to pull his hand away from my neck. “You don’t fucking own me. I’m not yours, and I will never be yours.”

His grip only tightened, though, his body pushing against mine and trapping me even more against the bricks. The tears in my eyes fell from both fear and the struggle to breathe.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but he shook me and growled. “Look at me!”

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