Page 175 of Teacher's Pet

"It would seem my message was clear," he murmurs.

My chest tightens. "Leave my dad out of this."

Jake steps closer, his breath ghosting against my face. "You don’t get to make the rules, Anastasia," he growls.

His voice is low, laced with warning.

"I need you to come with me." He nods subtly toward Cole and Walker. "They’ll wait until you’ve complied before they follow. Do anything stupid and all it takes is one text, one order, and dear old dad gets a bullet in the back of his head."

A pause.

A grin.

"Maybe your mom too. I doubt you want to be an orphan."

The ground beneath me shifts, my pulse hammering in my ears. But I don’t let it show. Instead, I glare, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between us.

"Get to the point."

Jake tilts his head, amused, but he doesn’t see what I’m doing.

With slow, deliberate movements, I slide my phone into his coat pocket. He won’t expect that. He won’t realize what I’ve done. Not yet.

Then, in a single, brutal movement, he grabs my wrist and drags me away.

I stumble on my heels, struggling to keep his pace, the sound of laughter and conversation fading behind us. As soon as we’re out of sight, he shoves me against the nearest wall.

The air is knocked from my lungs.

"Gotta make sure you don’t have anything on you."

His hands roam. Careless. Cruel. Unapologetic.

I want to scream.

His fingers linger too long on my chest, my hips.

My skin crawls.

"Get your fucking hands off me.

The punch comes fast, blunt and merciless.

Pain explodes across my nose. I stagger, the sharp taste of blood spilling onto my lips. A hot, throbbing ache blooms in my skull, my breath ragged as I register what just happened.

Jake flexes his fingers, his expression calm. "That was gentle." His voice is almost amused. "Tell me what to do again and I’ll make sure you see stars."

He finishes his search, his movements slower now, taunting. Then, smoothly, he pulls something from his waistband.

Cold metal presses into my side.

A gun.

Jake’s smirk deepens, his finger resting lazily on the trigger. "Care for a ride?"

My stomach plummets.

Nothing has ever scared me more.

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