Page 119 of A Dash of You

Don’t lose composure, Sora. You can’t. Just focus and stay calculated.

I swallow, taking his slimy hand. “Of course.” I hand Jason my empty glass and he scoffs.

“Maybe you ought to teach my wife a lesson. She seems to have forgotten her manners since she’s been away.”

The urge to sucker punch him again claws its way to the surface.

“I think that can be arranged.” Dennis guides me to where the staircase leads up upstairs.

Before ascending, I stop and gently tug my hand free of his. “Why are we going upstairs when the party is downstairs?”

Dennis smirks. “Ourparty is waiting for us somewhere more private. And you will join me.”

The thudding of my heart drowns out every other noise. And I suddenly feel sick. “Excuse me?”

Dennis closes the gap between us. “I didn’t get what I was promised last time. So, Iwillget what I’ve already paid for and that, my dear… is you.”

“I’m a recovering alcoholic, didn’t you hear? Surely there are women here more to your liking?”

He raises a hand, brutally cupping my injured cheek. “I don’t give a damn where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing. I’m not marrying you. You already have a husband, and I already have a wife. But you…” He eyes me up and down. “Are a prize to be had and I’ve been itching to explore you myself.”

I ball my hand into a fist, clenching it at my side, not the least bit surprised. But it doesn’t make my stomach stop swirling any less. I want to scream. Thrash. Do everything in power to escape here.

Before any more time passes, Dennis squeezes his hand around my upper arm, practically dragging me up the stairs with him.

“You think I’m going to allow you to touch me?” I fight, trying to free my arm.

“Yes. Because that was the agreement. Ten thousand for that cunt of yours.”

I gasp. “Ten thousand. That’s all? I feel I’m worth at least fifteen, give or take the day.”

He lets out a sinister laugh, grabbing both my arms this time, throwing me inside an empty room. I fall to the floor and when he turns on the light, I’m aware it’s one of Jason’s private rooms he has here at the mansion.

He grabs me, pulling my hair upward, forcing me off the floor while my scalp cries out in pain. “Touch me. Now.” He goes to unzip his pants, and mortification sets in.

“Go to hell. I’d rather you kill me.”

He smirks and lands a good smack to the same bruised cheek.

“Fucking Christ. Can you assholes please stop hitting me in the face? This is how you feel you’re controlling women? Pathetic.”

“Fucking bitch.” He grabs another fistful of hair, repeating his moves, and I let out a yell as he smacks me again.

I chuckle. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?” A Viking scream rushes out from me, and I land a blow to his jaw. I then jerk my leg up and my heel connects with his balls. He lets out a satisfying cry of pain.

Five seconds is all I allow myself to envy my work before getting the hell out of there.

I don’t make sure no one’s around. I don’t care. I just run for the stairs, taking the way back to the outside patio. Giving up isn’t an option. This will never be my life, and I’d die before it ever becomes mine again.

The music dies as soon as the back door closes and I’m the only one outside. The fresh air helps me regain composure, but I don’t stop. I sprint for the staircase leading to the gardens. But before I can reach it, someone grabs me from behind. Two powerful arms enclose me, enabling me to move.

The man is saying something, muttering into my ear, but it’s muffled. I’m too angry and scared.

I thrash in a frantic panic, about to throw back another one of Logan’s moves he taught me, but then it strikes.

Logan.

His smell. His feel. Everything that I’ve grown to love is right behind me, engulfing me in a protective barrier.

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