Page 64 of Brutal Ice

“Heroes don’t want to do the things I want to do with you.”

All of the moisture dried from her mouth. “What do you want to do?” A husky question.

He took a step toward her. Seemed to catch himself. Royal’s powerful hands fisted at his sides. “Run while you can, sweetheart.”

But what if I don’t want to run? “If I run, will you chase me?”

The gold took over his eyes. Burned. “I’m not someone you play with, Violet. I’ve warned you about that.”

“Does it look like I’m playing?” She sucked in a breath. Slowly let it out. “Did it look like I was playing when I was on my knees in front of you when we were in my dressing room?”

He bounded forward. Lunged. Royal reached out for her, only to fist his hands once more right before he could touch her. Then his fisted hands shoved back down to his sides. “You’re scared, and you want me because you think I’m the thing that saved you from the dark. Sweetheart, I am the dark.”

Her heart slammed into her chest.

“Get upstairs. Go to the guest room. Put space between us,” he ordered starkly. “Or I will fuck you so completely that you will never be free of me.”

She felt the pain first. Simone’s head throbbed in a heaving, stomach-churning rhythm, and her eyes cracked open. But she could only see darkness.

Something wet slid down her cheek, and she raised her hands to wipe it away, only to realize that her hands were bound together—locked at the wrists.

And her feet were bound.

A grinding filled her ears, and she…rolled a bit. Understanding and horror flooded through her when her bound hands slammed into something hard and metal above her. Grinding…like tires rolling on a rough road.

Darkness.

Trapped.

Oh, God.

She was in a trunk. In the trunk of a car, just like Violet had been. Her hands flew up, and she touched her mouth—no, the tape over her lips. Her bound hands caught a loose edge of the tape that covered her mouth, and she ripped it away. Simone screamed at the pain because it felt like her skin and part of her upper lip ripped away, too.

Muffled sobs broke from her.

I saw Violet get tossed into the trunk of that sedan. I didn’t try to stop him. I was scared. Terrified, at first. Stunned into immobility. But then…

Then he’d driven away.

I grabbed my phone. I intended to call the cops. Even thought about following the sedan.

But she hadn’t.

Because…

I also thought about what would happen if that sedan kept going and Violet never came back.

And now…

Now her bound hands slammed upward and into the metal edge of the trunk. Now she was the one trapped. And she was the one begging, “Help me! Somebody, please, help me!”

Chapter Thirteen

Her hands slammed into the top of the trunk. The duct tape pulled at her skin. The metal cut the edge of her fingers. She’d been rolling around in the trunk forever. But then they’d stopped. The car wasn’t moving any longer. “Help me!” The scream tore from her. “Someone, please help?—”

“Violet!” Hard hands closed around her shoulders. She was shaken once, lightly. “Violet, wake up. It’s just a bad dream. Sweetheart, wake up!”

Her eyes flew open. The bedside lamp was on, spilling light onto her and onto Royal as he leaned over her body. He sat on the edge of the bed, and worry covered his hard features.

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