Page 68 of Fall to Me
My blood turns to ice as his other hand coils around my throat. I freeze, momentarily paralyzed. My pulse thunders in my ears, and panic sets in as he drags me backwards. My feet shuffle with him. I can’t lose my footing. He can’t get me on the ground.
Think, River. Fucking think.
Instincts kick in. I slam my elbow into his ribs. He grunts out.
The room spins.
Pain explodes across my face, and sparks ignite behind my eyelids.
The taste of blood fills my mouth as I crumple onto the floor. I scramble to get up and run, but he grabs my ankle. My nailsbend and scrape across the floor as he pulls me to him. Kicking upward, I miss his face, clipping his shoulder instead. It’s not enough to stop him. I roll onto my back. He drops his weight on top of me, his hands wrapping around my throat again. I can’t breathe. Black spots dance across my vision. I claw at his face.
Goddammit, River. Fucking do something.
“Jax. Please. Stop,” I cry, struggling to speak.
“Look at what you’re making me do!” He yells in my face, his nose pressing to mine, and spittle hitting my lips. “You’re using him to make me jealous. It’s time to stop this shit and come home!”
My entire body becomes hot as rage takes over.
“Fuck you!” I grit out, pulling on his left arm and rolling him onto his back.
I clamber to my feet and stomp on his balls.
“Fuck. You!” I yell again.
He rolls onto his side, groaning in pain. I round his body, and rear back my leg, kicking him in the gut. “I’m so fucking tired of your goddamn shit!”
I stand there, frozen, realizing what I’ve just done and watching him groan in agony. Then I hear Carter’s voice in my head.
“Run.”
Adrenaline courses through my body as I pump my legs as fast as I can. Running past the elevators, I head for the stairwell. I don’t even know how many flights of stairs I run down, all I know is I can’t waste time waiting on an elevator. My palms slam into the bar on the emergency door, and it bangs against the wall as I pass, running into a hallway.
“Please. I need help,” I cry out, pounding the side of my fist on every door.
No one is going to answer. I look like a crazy person—hair and clothes disheveled, busted lip, and yelling. Tremors wrackmy body as the shock and adrenaline begin to wane. I look back. He didn’t follow me, but no one is answering their door either, and he could be on me any second.
“Please!” I call out. “Someone help me!”
The elevator dings, and my heart races as I calculate my next move. A black boot steps into the hallway, and I take my fighting stance, lifting my eyes. Brian, a security guard for the property, steps out into the hallway, and my hands lower to my side.
“My ex-husband. I don’t know how he got in, but he was in my penthouse. 9607. My husband is on his way home. Can you call down to Nigel and make sure Carter doesn’t go up there?”
“Yeah. I’ll head up there to check things out.”
Brian takes me downstairs to the lobby, where Carter is waiting for me. I run into his arms, and he looks me over before cradling my head against his chest. An hour later, we’re allowed back into our apartment. Carter sits beside me on the couch with his arm wrapped around me as I remove the icepack and set it on the coffee table. I work my jaw back and forth, feeling it move properly. At least he didn’t dislocate it this time, but fuck that’s gonna bruise. A couple of New York police stand in our living room with their notepad, questioning me, but their voices are lost as I stare at the shattered glass that spilled over from the kitchen into the breakfast area.
“Mrs. Graham.” The officer calls my name bringing me back to the present.
“Huh?”
“Are you sure you locked your door?”
They’ve asked me this question three different ways, and I’ve given them the same answer every time. I know they’re only doing their job, but something in me snaps.
“I don’t know how to make this any clearer. The door was locked. He walked right in as if he owned the place. I thought it was my husband at first.”
“We’re not seeing any forced entry.”
