Page 21 of Boss Daddy

“Leave me the hell alone.”

He keeps coming closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “Out here all by yourself? That’s not very smart.”

“What do you want?”

He chuckles, a creepy, sinister sound. “Just being friendly, that’s all. You know, same thing I wastryingto do at the bar before your asshole boss threw me out. But he’s not here now, is he?”

I take a step back, my heart hammering against my ribs. The train station is so close. I just have to get there, to where other people are. My fingers continue to search for the pepper spray, my mind racing.

“Stay away from me,” I warn.

“Or what?”

My fingers frantically fumble through my bag, panic tightening my chest as I dig for the keys, the pepper spray—anything. Finally, I feel the familiar shape of the keys in my hand and pull them out, flipping the pepper spray open.But my hands are trembling so badly they drop out of my weak grip, tumbling onto a nearby vent in the sidewalk. They land with a clank, then slip between the slats and vanish.

Fuck!

The man steps closer, his shadow stretching long and dark on the pavement. A disgusting, predatory grin spreads across his face.Every bit of me is shouting to turn and run, to get away as quickly as possible.

“Oh, that’s too bad. You’ve lost your keys. Let me give you a ride,” he says, his voice low and sinister. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. A pretty little girl like you… it’s not safe. My car’s nearby.”

I force my feet to stay planted. “No thanks. I’ll take the subway.”

As long as I can get there, I’ll be safe.

He grins. “That wasn’t really a suggestion.”

Before I can react, he rushes toward me, closing the distance between us. His hand shoots out and clamps around my wrist, his grip brutal. Pain flares up my arm, and I gasp, pulling in a sharp breath. I twist, trying to yank my arm free, but his fingers are like iron bands.

“Let go of me, you asshole!”

He just chuckles, his eyes glinting. “Feisty. Misha warned me about that.”

Shit! Shit-shit-shit!

At the mention of Misha’s name, dread pools in my stomach. I lash out with my free hand, my palm connecting with his cheek in a sharp slap. The sound cracks through the night air, but he barely flinches. Instead, his smile fades into something much darker.

He yanks my arm hard, pulling me close enough that his breath ghosts over my face. “You’re gonna walk to the car like a good girl,” he says. “Misha wants a word.”

Terror spikes through me, sharp and cold. My vision blurs, but I grit my teeth, refusing to crumble. “Why does Misha have such a bug up his ass about me?”

His eyes narrow. “Simple. Misha doesn’t let his women defy him.”

“I’m not one of his goddamn women!”

“You became just that the minute you started working for him. And now, you need to be reminded of what happens when you forget your place.”

I know what he means. I’ve heard the stories. If he gets me into that car, I might never come back.

My pulse explodes. Instinct takes over. I kick at his shin and claw at his hand, but his grip tightens. Pain shoots up my wrist, sharp enough to make me cry out.

“Enough of this,” he growls. He slams his fist into my stomach.

The pain is incredible and I double over, gasping, my vision swimming with black spots. I feel him trying to lift me off my feet.

No!

With everything I have in me, I whip my head back, the base of my skull smashing into his nose. He grunts in pain, his grip loosening just enough to yank my arm free. My wrist is throbbing, but I manage to stumble away.

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