Page 36 of Forget Me Twice

Only five steps into the hallway, however, and a shiver of awareness skates down my spine. I freeze, goosebumps rippling down each of my limbs in delicious, bone-tingling expectation.

I strain, desperately willing my ears to pick up any hint of movement. Breathing, footsteps,anything.

There—the slightest rustle of clothing from the northern end of the corridor. Directly behind me.

I still can’t see a fucking thing. There is absolutely no light for my eyesight to adjust to. I’m not even entirely sure I actually heard anything aside from the erratic sound of my own pulse.

But I canfeelhim.

Feel him lurking in the inky blackness, just on the edge of my senses. Feel him in the way my heart pounds in my chest and between my legs.

“Little girl, why aren’t you running?” comes the low, menacing taunt from the dark.

That warning edge in his voice should feel sharp like a slice, a stab; but instead it feels like a lover’s caress. As always, it knocks me off-kilter in the best of ways.

I can practically feel every hair on my body standing on end.

I whirl, all the air in my lungs leaving in an ecstatic rush as I dash down the hallway in my original direction. Blood roars like a tide in my ears but my mind is blissfully empty. None of the usual pandemonium.

Only one thought remains.

Run.

I can’t hear his footsteps, not over my pulse or my hysterical pants or the dramatic clicks of my own heels.

But I do hear his wicked laughter. It bounces off the metal siding, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Fourteen paces before the corridor ends with a sharp left hand turn into a receiving area surrounded by another warren of rooms.

Nine paces.

Four.

But I don’t make it to the turn because a massive weight collides with my back and suddenly we’re airborne. I only have one hitched breath to brace for impact, and then we’re crashing through the fibreboard composite wall that previously signaled the end of the hallway.

The wall practically disintegrates beneath us in a cloud of decaying MDF dust and shards.

I don’t get the chance to clear my lungs or regain my bearings, before a large hand is clamping down over my mouth. Its partner tangles roughly through my hair, yanking my head back with a sharp jerk.

“Not fast enough,” Rhett hisses victoriously in my ear. Without sight, all my other senses are working overtime. His voice thunders, and his breath feels scorchingly hot against my cheek. What feels like hundreds of pieces of destroyed cladding stab cruelly into every surface of exposed skin that’s now pressed into the floor.

Arousal pools violently in my pelvis at the guttural, primal sound of his voice, and my wanton pussy opens the floodgates. I can’t help the low, strangled mewl that escapes my throat, vibrating pitifully against his palm.

Rhett gives my locks another rough tug. My neck strains, and my arms swing out and backwards, clawed fists connecting with his shins as he crouches over me.

“Listen to you moan, you wicked little slut,” he growls, shaking me by the hair with a clenched fist. “You wanted the big bad wolf to catch you, didn’t you?” Another jerk. “You didn’t eventryto get away.”

This time it’s not a moan, but a muffled curse. He chuckles darkly in response, before shoving me face-down with the hand that grips my hair. The large hand sealed firmly across my mouth protects most of my skin from the debris of our crash-landing, but I still feel jagged pieces pressing into my forehead and the top of one cheek.

No pain follows. My system is too busy overloading. Too much adrenaline and too much dopamine. I pull in short, quick breaths through a small part of my nostril that’s still blessedly exposed.

I can feel the tenuous agreement between my mind and body on what should and should not be happening to us splintering like sugar glass.

A single tear runs unbidden down one cheek and drips onto the floor.

The hand in my hair suddenly disappears. He’s using it now to secure one of my flailing arms—twisting it behind my back and pinning it beneath a heavy knee. The other arm swiftly follows.

His confidence in the complete darkness is always slightly jarring.

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