Page 18 of Shattered Dreams

Then he’s insane. And dangerous. Ash didn’t have a kind bone in his body, and I’m guessing this idiot doesn’t either.

“He says you’ll always belong to him. That no matter how many guys you fuck, he’ll always be your first. Pretty romantic if you ask me. He wants to see you, Zarah. You never visit.” Mockingly, hetsks.

Changing direction, he backtracks toward the elevator. This might be my only chance. I drag a landline phone off a secretary’s desk and crawl under it, rolling the chair in as far as it will go. I hope to God it looks like no one is hiding here. I try to touch type directory assistance, but the phone beeps and I jerk in dread.

My fingers shake and I fumble, cutting off the beeping before he can figure out where I am.

“I heard that, Zarah, you sweet thing. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

I’m so stupid. I didn’t dial nine for an outside line first. Calling directory assistance is the only way I can find out Gage’s phone number without a computer, and I can’t chance that. A monitor would be too bright.

“City and state please,” the bored operator asks.

“King’s Crossing, Minnesota.” I whisper so low I don’t think she can hear me but miraculously, she does.

“Listing, please.”

“Davenport, Gage Davenport.”

She types something, the keys clicking, and a few feet away, there’s a crash. I press my body against the back of the desk. He must have hit something with his bat.

“I have Davenport Investigations on Lake Superior Road.”

“Okay.” I bite back a moan. I wanted his cell phone number. I can call their office, but I know no one is going to be there and I’m going to be in big trouble.

“Zarah! I want you, sweetheart. Ash didn’t say I could have a taste, but I’m gonna anyway.”

“I’ll connect you, please hold.”

The phone rings and rings, and they sound so loud I’m afraid they’ll lead him straight to me. No one is going to answer. Way after business hours, I wasted my one phone call on a hope and a wish. The line clicks and I think an answering machine is going to answer but Gage barks, “Davenport. What can I do for you?”

Oh, thank God. They forward their calls.

“Gage.” My voice is faint and watery.

“Who is this?”

Music plays in the background.

“Gage, I need your help.”

“You’re going to have to speak up. I can’t hear you.”

I can’t wait for him to find a quiet spot. “Help me,” I say a little louder.

“Zarah?”

“Zarah Maddox! I’m going to find you! Stop fucking hiding from me.”

“Zarah? Are you okay? Who was that?” Gage asks, the music fading.

I don’t have time to answer him.

Ash’s goon is closer, and I set the phone down, laying the receiver next to the base.

“Zarah?” Gage’s voice floats into the air, and it seems to fill the entire twenty-fifth floor.

I push at the chair, slowly, so slowly, and I ease out from the space under the desk. Only two feet away, there’s another crash. He hit a monitor with his bat.

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