Page 75 of Too Late

My stomach coils at the idea that Asa has anything to do with this. But it wouldn’t be the first time he’s concocted a ridiculously elaborate scheme. It’s becoming his forte.

“Am I under arrest?” I ask the agent.

He remains in front of the door, but doesn’t answer my question.

“If I’m not under arrest, I’d like to go downstairs.”

He shakes his head no.

Fuck this guy.

I stand up and try to walk around him, but he grabs my arm and tosses me back toward the bed. That’s when I know for sure something isn’t right with this whole situation. I jump back up and attempt it again. “Help!” I scream, hoping to get someone else’s attention in the house.

He slaps his hand over my mouth and shoves me against the wall. “I suggest you shut your mouth and sit back down on the bed.”

I stomp on his foot, knowing I’m just making things worse for myself. But I’m tired of not fighting back. His hands meet my shoulders and he shoves me against the wall so hard my head slams against it. I wince and try to pull a hand up to my head, but he grabs my wrists and shoves them at my sides.

“You’re a feisty little thing,” he says, smiling like that’s something that’s supposed to turn him on.

Where the fuck did this guy come from? The same womb as Jon?

“Help!” I scream again.

This time he shakes his head and says, “Don’t know how to keep your mouth shut, do you?” He presses his lips against mine and I fuckinghatemen. Ihatethem. Ihatethem!

My eyes are wide open as I try to keep my lips pressed together against the force of his tongue. I’m looking over the guy’s shoulder, struggling to free myself from him, when the bedroom door swings open.

I’m both horrified and relieved to see that it’s Asa.

What in the hell is going on?

His eyes scan the room and then land on us—on the guy who’s still trying to penetrate my mouth with his tongue. There’s a hand now working its way up my shirt. I realize what a fucked-up world I live in when I catch myself praying that Asa comes to my rescue, but also fearing for the moment I’m safe with him.

Asa doesn’t even take two seconds to process what he’s seeing. His eyes turn heated with rage. “I gave you one fucking job, asshole!” he yells, striding toward us. Just when the guy releases me and begins to spin around, Asa lifts his gun and presses it to the top of the guy’s head. “Onefucking job!”

Ringing.

I can’t hear anything over the ringing in my ears. The sting of liquid in my eyes—on my face. I cover my ears with my hands and squeeze my eyes shut.

No, that did not just happen.

No, no, no.

I hear the guy fall to the floor and I have to step to the side to get my left foot out from under him. “No, Asa. No, no, no,” I repeat, my hands still over my ears, my eyes still shut.

“He probably thought you were a whore, Sloan,” he says, grabbing my arm. “Can you blame him?”

Asa yanks me forward and I trip over the guy on the floor. Asa doesn’t let go of my arm as he drags me to my feet and toward the door.

My eyes are still closed. I think I might be screaming, because my throat is stinging, but I can’t tell if that’s me or the ringing in my ears. I’m suddenly lifted up into the air and thrown over his shoulder.

He carries me down the stairs and the last ten seconds replay over again in my head.

This is not happening.

Seconds later, he lays me down on a bed. I’m still too scared to open my eyes. Several moments pass and I can feel my chest pulling for air. I gasp between tears as Asa’s voice comes at me from inches above me.

“Sloan, look at me.”

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