Never Hide Again - Page 94

Chapter 45

Alternating shots of adrenaline and fear travel through me and raise the hair on my arms. I want to scream, but the idea of how to kill him first is whizzing through my mind so quickly that I almost forget there’s a knife to my back—almost.

“Lonnie.” His name is thick in my throat. “Who told you it would be a good idea to show your face now?”

“Are you in the place to ask questions?” His free hand grazes down my arm, sending a wave of repulsion through my stomach as his meaty chest hovers above my shoulder blades. “I fucking think not.”

“I fucking think I am.” My jaw clenches, and my molars grind so hard I’m surprised nothing cracks. “There's security all over this building. The minute—”

“Come now. Don’t you know me better than that?” The point of the blade presses against me. “No one is here. Did you think I would allow someone to interrupt our playtime? All the people I’ve been seeing followed Grant to the airport. We’re finally alone.”

“What?”No. For a moment, I feel small, helpless, and dumb—but then I remember this is Lonnie, and he has to be lying. “You’re lying.”

“Why don’t you ever believe me?” He ribs me in the back with his elbow. “Such a frustrating little dol—”

He stills, falling silent as a sound right of the SUV occurs. Holding my arm, he shuffles us back to see what's caused it, but there's nothing. I scan the area, only to be greeted by the sight of concrete, cars, and fluorescent lighting. There's not a soul present. I don’t know why. All I know is that no one is here.

No security.

No shouting for him to put his hands in the air and release me.

No men in black clothes, rushing to my defense.

I’m alone—truly, and I’m going to have to fight one last time if I want to stay alive.

Fuck, this is a bad day.

Lonnie takes that as his cue and turns us around, pushing me forward, keeping his chest tight to my back. “All right. I’m getting tired. Take me to the top floor so you and I can start.”

I take a hard swallow. “And if I don't?” A whimper leaves me when the blade threatens to poke through my clothing. The sharp pierce arches me forward.

“Did you know there’s a part of the spinal cord, right about here.” He twists the blade. “If I stab you here, you won’t die, but you’ll be paralyzed. Not even able to move as we play.” He lowers his head, cigarette-tainted breath hitting the back of my ear, whisking along my face. “I don’t want that. Feeling you thrash beneath me will be more fun, but I’ll take it if that’s all there is.”

My lower lip quivers when he squeezes my shoulder with a slimy touch. I’m not scared, just mad. The anger is lashing hot in my gut, clawing through my limbs.

“I’m not asking again.” His voice grates. “Either take me upstairs or we see what your body is made of in the car. Your choice, your playground. Pick now.”

Some fucking choice. My choice includes putting a bullet between his eyes, but I can’t do that here. We really do need to go upstairs so I can have a chance.

A chance I was forced into, and now resentment strikes at my ligaments again, making them flex as I think of Grant. I’d still be upstairs if it wasn’t for him.

I nod, kicking myself internally. “Okay. Follow me.”

“Good.” He grips my ass, groaning with the feel of me. “So round. I didn’t know you could be so soft. You’ve never let me really touch you—not the way I wanted.”

My eyes close in revulsion, the sour taste of bile washing against my tonsils. I take a second to fight it back down and then nod. “Let’s go.”

Suffocating quiet engulfs us as Lonnie utters not a word while following after me. Preparing to enter the second elevator, I realize I still haven't seen what he looks like. After all these years, I'm sure he looks different.

Guess I’ll find out soon enough. I doubt whatever is about to occur will be swift. I expect a fight to ensue—a literal one of life and death. A cold sweat coats my palms when thinking of what will happen if I fail.

I’ll no doubt be dead, but I’m certain of a slow and painful ending. Let’s just hope I’m quicker than he is.

The elevator door drags open, and I can hear my own ragged breathing as we step calmly to the top floor.

It makes Lonnie laugh. “Nervous?”

“What do you think?” We go down the hall, the knife to my spine, my pulse still spiking, and I feel the frostbite setting into my fingertips.

Not good. I’m slowly becoming frozen, and I can’t afford to have this happen. Forcing my eyes closed for a second, I think of Grant. I want him to be the reason I fight to survive, but presently, there’s an amber of hatred threatening to rupture into a full forest fire.

He left me. Put me in this situation by leaving me alone like this.

I would have been better off staying in that apartment last month and keeping my upper hand. The man I thought of as being strong, is either short sighted, or twisted.

I’m still not sure which it is, but he did leave me one gift. I’m less afraid of dying, and more prone to fight.

I grunt when the knife lightly pokes at my back.

“You’re slowing down, and I told you I’m tired.”

“Easy.” My eyes almost roll. “The door is right there.”

Tags: Garnet Christie Romance
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