Page 5 of Broken Rules
Would he hit her? Beat her until she was a bloody lump incapable of fighting off his never-ending blows?
Was he armed?
Still, he stood, unmoving, staring.
She couldn’t take it!
“What do you want?” she cried, tears stinging her eyes.
His silence terrorized her. Her mind pummeled her heart with images of what he might do to her...rape, torture. What if he took her and locked her away in some rotting cabin in the woods where he could use her to satisfy his ugly needs whenever it suited him?
“I’ll scream,” she blurted.
Still, he said nothing.
“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to call the police or something?” she cried, her heart racing faster than ever.
He stepped toward her. “I’m not afraid, and you shouldn’t—”
A sob tore from her lips at the sudden sound of his voice. She dropped the lamp, scrambled off the bed onto the floor, and wedged herself in the corner between the bed and the wall.
He stopped in his tracks and reached out a calming hand as if she were a spooked animal he was trying to soothe. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His rich voice held a beseeching note. Raising one hand above his head as if in surrender, his other hand unsnapped something on his belt. “Watch.”
Her gaze followed his hand as he pulled out a gun.
“No,” she screamed and buried her face in her knees. She didn’t want to die.
“I’m not going to shoot you.” The words rushed from his lips. “Look, I’m putting the gun on this bureau, and now I’m stepping away. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
Her breaths came in short, hot heaves. She peeked out from beneath her arms.
“Don’t be afraid,” he told her softly.
She hugged her arms around her legs, making herself as small as possible, and resisted the urge to blink, terrified to let him out of her sight for even a second. “You just broke into my boss’s house!”
Slowly, he walked toward her.
“Don’t come any closer!”
He stopped at the foot of the bed. “Your boss? So, Joe Wilder isn’t your boyfriend?”
She shook her head, her breaths ragged. She reached up and yanked down the duvet, piling the blanket on top of her as though it suddenly held the powers of Kevlar.
“You’re alone.” His deep voice penetrated her shield, his words sounding more like a statement than a question.
Swallowing hard, she wished with all her heart that Joe was there.
Sure, he was an arrogant asshole, but at least he didn’t carry guns and wear masks and break into people’s houses. “Joe should be right back!”
“You’re lying,” the man said without hesitation.
Peeking out, she saw him take another step toward her. A noise like a whimper got run-over by a squeal came unbidden from her lips. This wasn’t supposed to happen. All she needed was a place to crash for the night. Now, she might not make it out alive.
This was all Roman’s fault. If he had not driven her to drink four martinis, she would be asleep, safe and sound, in her own bed.
Damn Roman!
Slowly, the masked man circled around to her side of the bed and sat down on the far edge. “My information says he’s out of town. No one is supposed to be here.”
