Page 16 of Enforcer's Obsession

He was testing me.

I knew that, just as I knew he had won.

To my surprise, I didn’t feel any shame in that truth.

Iwaspowerless.

I’d felt that feeling before, knew it as well as I knew my own name.

And I’d sworn to myself I would never feel it again.

But I was at his mercy now.

I wouldn’t stay that way.

“It’s good that we cleared that up. Now get up the stairs,” he said.

He gestured toward a door that I hadn’t even noticed.

I went toward it, then stopped when I saw the key pad and red light.

“I think it’s locked,” I said.

He gave me the code and I punched in the numbers. The light flickered green and then there was a lowhissof the locks decompressing.

Sadness and fear threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed both back.

Getting the fuck out of here was the one and only thing I needed to do, and freaking out wouldn’t make that happen.

So I’d keep my cool and play nice with this psycho until I had a chance to make my move.

After all, I’d done it before. I spentyearsafter my mother died staying a close to my stepfather’s good side as I could get.

I could handle this.

Feeling as brave as I was able, I stepped through the doorway. A flight of stairs that led up to darkness greeted me. I didn’t linger or allow myself to think about what was inside. I just went up, turned, then went up yet another flight of stairs.

My heart was racing, but not because of the exercise. No, I knew Nico was only steps behind me, but I refused to look back.

I didn’t want to see him, and even more, knew looking back wouldn’t help me.

There was no way out.

All I could do was go forward.

So I kept my eyes ahead, taking in my surroundings as I moved.

This place—a townhouse I had determined—was beautiful.

The floors were dark hardwood, which surprised me. Nico struck me as a concrete kind of guy, but the floors had an elegance and refinement that was unexpected. I looked up toward the exposed ceiling, which was two or maybe three stories tall.

The place had the feel of an art gallery, but as I looked around, I saw the trappings of a home.

Expensive-looking furniture that looked large enough to accommodate Nico’s frame without being bulky or overwhelming the airiness of the room.

The biggest television I’d ever seen hung from a wall and, to my surprise, there was a shelf of books.

There was no art, though Nico didn’t strike me as an artsy type of guy, despite how this place looked.

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