Page 39 of At the Edge of Surrender

Not my daughter. Your daughter.

Throat thick, I forced out, “She’s with my mother.”

“Good,” he said, then he shifted around so he could jam at the emergency button again before he pushed the button for the hotel lobby.

The elevator sped toward the bottom floor.

Every bone in my body felt brittle when the door dinged open, and I was barely able to move as he shifted to set his palm on the small of my back and he ushered me out.

A shudder ripped through.

I had to get myself together.

My reaction to him was not okay.

Unacceptable.

A security guard was standing near the elevator, on his phone and obviously calling for help.

Kane lifted a casual hand. “Sorry about that. I accidentally bumped into the emergency button. All is well.”

The lie fell out of him as if it were nothing.

He was clearly a pro.

He didn’t slow as he hurried me through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk in front.

Warm air instantly engulfed me, my skin slicked in sweat, though I doubted it had much to do with the summer heat.

It was the boiling that convulsed from within.

“Where are we going?” I finally managed.

“Someplace private.”

He snatched my hand with his that was tattooed with the Ss, and I nearly toppled at the severity that blistered through my being.

Without speaking, he guided me around the valet parking area and to the side of the hotel where there were a row of parking spots.

He hauled me in the direction of a motorcycle that was every bit as menacing as him. It was in an area that wasn’t really even a spot where white lines cut across the pavement to keep people from parking there.

Obviously, he wasn’t one for rules.

Alarm blared when I realized his intentions, and I dug my heels into the concrete. “Oh, no. That is not going to happen.”

Was he insane?

I didn’t even know him, and he wanted me to get on the back of that death trap?

“Not sure what you’re referring to,” he rumbled.

“I’m not getting on that thing.” I flailed a flustered hand at it.

It was almost completely black, the metal smoked and shadowed. The only parts that had color were the gas tank, which was a muted hue of brown, plus a couple of lines that matched it on the fenders.

It sat low to the ground, the body and tires wide and squatty.

Everything about it was fierce and foreboding.

---