Page 3 of Jump or Fall
“Yeah, I bet.” He snickered. “He must be important since you’re freezing me out like this. Your Silver doesn’t have to know.”
Jasper reached for her arm, but she shoved him back and drove a fist into his jaw. Pain shot through her hand as she hurtled away.
He caught her wrist and twisted it to pin it behind her back.
“Stop!” she pleaded, trying to wrench herself free.
His grip only tightened, the pain going deep into her muscles.
Stop fighting. You’re making it worse.
She couldn’t. There was something about him that she hated to the core.
His hand clamped over her mouth. She sank her teeth into the heel of his palm.
“Ah! Bitch!”
Before he could retaliate, a gritty voice cut through the commotion.
“Enough.”
He released her so suddenly that her knee slammed onto the floor, sending pain radiating up her leg. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts as she got back to her feet.
Jasper’s face had turned pale, his cocky persona gone.
Dawson crossed the room, slowly with his hands behind his back. He stopped in front of her, his cold, gray eyes taking her in. “Mara, I see you’ve met my nephew.” His face darkened as he turned to Jasper. “Leave—and make sure you don’t slip up with anyone else here.”
Jasper darted out of the fitting room, leaving her alone with the man who kept an entire city under his metal thumb.
Mara tried to steady herself. Punishment was coming. Hitting a member of his family would be inexcusable. It didn’t matter what had started it.
Dawson looked down at her with a blank expression. His soft armor suit was different from the one in the news report. Both sets had been made by her. The smell of his cologne and aftershave mingled together, creating a knot in her stomach.
“My nephew is new and doesn’t always know what is and isn’t his to play with.” He let the words hang in the air before adding, “He will learn.”
Gently, he tilted her chin up. If he wasn’t such a monster, he wouldn’t be bad looking—maybe even attractive. The years had been generous to him and the lines around his eyes weren’t as pronounced as the average man in his late forties. Only a few grays grew along the sides of his head, adding texture to his almost black hair.
A claw emerged from his index finger, gleaming under the light.
“You know this means another stripe.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I know,” she answered quietly.
He retracted the claw and grinned. He dragged his thumb down her cheek, then lower, tracing the curve of her throat.
Her jaw clenched. Jasper had been right about one thing—she had already been caught.
She fell to her knees and unclasped his belt. The soreness from hitting the floor and the harsh grip on her wrist would be gone shortly. All she had to do was step out of her skin.
Counting threads.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
How many colors did Araflex come in?
Five.
