Page 14 of House of Cards

“Let go!” Why do I sound so high-strung? I mean, we’re in the middle of a casino. What’s he going to do?

He flicks my hair over my shoulder, making my stomach clench, and then grabs the back of my neck and spins me around.It happens so fast that I’m facing in the other direction before I realize what’s happened.

A few casino guests look in my direction, but apparently they know better than to interfere because they quickly turn back to their machines like they saw nothing.

“Are you going to call the police?” Why do I sound so frightened?

“The police?” His brows rise slightly, like the thought vaguely amuses him. “I don’t think so.”

My stomach drops.

I should be relieved. Buzzcut made it damn clear that getting the cops involved would void our agreement.

But if this guy isn’t calling the cops, then...

…keep fucking around, sweetheart. I got another weapon in my pants I’m itching to take out…

Great. So now I’ve got one psycho threatening to burn down my diner and another who’d rather deal with me himself than call the police. The universe really is committed to this whole ‘fuck Zoey’s life’ bit.

“I’ve done nothing wrong!” I blurt out.

The only response is a slight tightening in his fingers, a touch that’s doing weird things to my body. At first cool, his skin is warming against mine. The longer he grips me, the more I’m trembling inside.

When it looks like he’s leading me to the casino’s front entrance, a blast of icy relief chases through me…but then he angles me away and shoves me through a nondescript metal door, into a dimly lit passage.

I force a swallow when that heavy door slides shut behind us, muting the noise from the casino.

“Where are you taking me?” I wish I could sound indignant, but my voice is shaking too much.

“Somewhere private.”

Goosebumps scatter over my arms.

Oh, God. This is bad.

Maybe not ‘Buzzcut burning down my diner with me in it’ bad, but still.

“You can’t do this,” I say, clearing my throat when I hear how pathetic my voice sounds. “I have rights!”

“You’ll know when I want you to speak, because I’ll have asked you a question.”

“Look, I get it. People look up to you.” Literally. This guy istall.“You have a reputation to uphold. But I’m not?—”

“Last warning.”

I throw him a glare over my shoulder, but when I catch sight of the man’s calm expression, I realize I’m alone in a dimly lit hallway with a psychopath. And since this is not the hill I plan to die on, I shut the hell up.

He drags me into a tiny room with zero windows, a dented metal desk, and a chair that’s seen better days.

The casino’s chaos is gone. The hum of an ancient air conditioner fills the silence like white noise, the only other sound that of my pulse thudding in my ears as my mind races.

Eyewitnesses saw him chasing me through the casino. If he commits a crime, then he’d be arrested and?—

In a week’s time, Buzzcut will still burn down Mom’s diner, because he alwayskeeps his appointments.

I grunt when he gives me a hard push, and barely catch myself against the edge of the desk. My skirt flares out when I spin around, ready to defend myself, but he simply kicks up his heel and pushes the door closed behind him, eyes locked with mine.

My gaze flickers to his suspenders as he slowly slides a thumb down the inside of that dark leather strap, where it strains against the hint of muscle beneath his white button-up shirt. Iforce my eyes back to his, trying to ignore the pulse of unease that flutters through me.

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