Page 65 of Her Filthy Reverse Harem Romance Collection

I nod to their retreating backs. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be right here.” It’s probably not a good idea to put a voice to my other thoughts so I clamp my mouth shut. Thoughts like,“Sure, I’ll stay here while you are probably torturing a guest in a back room or worse, the kitchen.”

And the same reason why I’m not sticking around to see if all the wooing is pretend before they put a bullet through my brain.

That pesky voice of reason pops up again, telling me Drake was speaking the truth. If they wanted me dead, I would be. Simple as that. I just don’t like the idea of my freedom not being my own.

Gorgeous or not, no man owns me and there is no need for any agreement. What had I been thinking letting them work me up so hard? So fast? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I poke my head out the door, barely believing the empty corridor I find on the other side. Several doors line either side but only one has the lights on. It pours from a slit where I also hear muffled voices coming from.

I back up and close the door behind me. This is too perfect. A little voice of doubt screams with questions like why would they leave me here all alone? With an unlocked door? No guard?

Honestly, did I care why? I throw a side-eye at the coat Sylan had given me but I leave it behind. It will only slow me down. I’ll take my chances. But I do grab my purse, with the little cash I made tonight and stab at the button for the lobby. I have my uniform zipped up and my girls back where they belong before the doors slide open. A ding of the elevator reverberates through the office and I flinch only long enough to hope no one hears it.

Inside, I stab at the button for the lobby and as soon as the little digital number at the top turns over to LB I pound marble so hard I feel every minute I dished out plates of greasy food back at Sally’s.

I need better footwear, but right now they were the only thing keeping the soles of my feet from turning bloody and leaving them a trail to follow.

I dash past the lobby doorman and push my way through the rotating door. “Freaking fancy, slow-moving revolving doors of death,” I breathe out with fanatic, harsh breaths.

I shove at the door, paying no mind to the doorman’s shocked face when I bust out the other side in a dead run.

With my feet barely holding me up, I don’t stop until I’m sitting in a room, with a door, between the unsafe people in this city and me.

After making a mad run for it out of Sylan’s office, I didn’t know where to go at first. Buy that ticket to New York? They’d only pick me up the second the bus arrives at its station. Vegas? Same thing.

Back to Sally’s place? My old apartment. Not hardly. Maybe I could just hop from bus to bus, no destination in mind.

Since that involves more money than I have, the police station would have to do.

“I hear you have a pretty exciting story to tell us, Ms.?”

A detective and his partner walk into a small, windowless room with a terrible view.

“I was kidnapped tonight. It’s not a story. Try not to sound so condescending, would you.” So I left out the getting kissed to death part, but the other is fact. I let my emotions get the best of me when I’m around them and I need reinforcements between them and me to make sure I don’t fall into a situation I’ll never get out of. And believe me, falling into the enemy’s bed is bad. Very bad. “My name is Katriona Kane and Sylan Ward, Drake Montgomery and Grey Hudson all kidnapped me.”

Both detectives exchange a look while the file they came in with is slowly shut and tossed on the table.

My attention darts between them and my heart is pounding so hard I can’t hear what they say next.

“You have to help me. Please. I’m not lying.”

Part of me cringes at getting them in trouble but they didn’t leave me any options when they said shit like, you are ours now and we’ll go over our agreement after we deal with our guest. Doesn’t quite speak of love, does it?

“I’m just seeking protection. Sylan is a powerful man. Please don’t let him find me.”

“Wait here.”

They quietly leave and it’s only a few seconds before the door opens again and my mouth sways open.

I shove to my feet and back against the farthest corner. “Stay away from me. Don’t touch me,” I hiss. I’m not strong enough to fight the power. I’m just not.

“I told you. I own this city. Me. Drake. Grey. Wearethis city. Did you really think you would slip through our fingers again?”

He crosses the room, hands in his pockets, his hair a little less than perfectly combed. The long dark locks drape across his forehead and my eye is drawn to how tired he looks. Did I do that to him?

Crinkles along the corners of his eyes seem deeper, more pronounced. The pained look in his dark eyes holds mine.

“I don’t know.”

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