His expression darkened. “But that doesn’t mean they’re good. That they can be trusted. You get what I’m telling you?”
There was no mirth in the warning.
No tease.
Just the truth of what he said.
I swallowed around the lump that had made itself home at the base of my throat for the last three weeks, gave him a tight nod. “I know that.”
Like I hadn’t stumbled on my fair share of scumbags.
He dipped a nod. “Good. Then be careful.”
“I will. I promise.”
I wondered if I’d already known it was a lie when I said it.
Two
Mia
Lyrik was right.
Not all of his guests could be trusted.
My pulse raced wild.
A frantic boom, boom, boom that I could feel thundering in the middle of my chest.
Panic raced, my throat closing off and my sight going blurry.
I tried to free myself from the hold of the man who was breathing his vileness all over me. Before I could even make sense that he’d been waiting for me when I’d left the restroom, he’d backed me into a wall at the base of the curved staircase.
His stench stung my nostrils. Sweat drenched in depravation.
His breath a toxic blend of alcohol and sex and corruption.
He edged me farther against the wall, as if his admission to this party had purchased him any evil.
“I said to get out of my way,” I forced out under my breath, teeth gritting in the hope that it might keep the terror that was streaking through my veins from seeping out of my pores.
The last thing I wanted was this asshole to sense my fear.
A monster scenting its prey.
“Come now. Don’t be like that,” he slurred, pressing his nose to my throat. “I just wanted to say hi. Introduce myself. You look awful pretty wandering around here all by yourself.”
I cringed. “I’m not alone. Now let me go.”
He tsked like my statement was absurd. “I should have known Lyrik West would invite the prettiest girls to his party. He always has the best entertainment.”
I would have laughed if vomit hadn’t already risen to my throat, vocal cords chained in alarm and dread.
This jerk had no idea my brother would gladly snap his neck. Gut him and leave him floating face-down in a river.
But right that second, my brother was nowhere to be found and neither was any of the security.
We were hidden by the curve of the stairs, tucked in the shadows and concealed by the din of music.
Voices and laughter echoed from the main room.
Nothing but taunts and jeers that pounded my ears.
Lyrik’s warning screamed, and fear pressed down as the bastard covered me with his sweaty, meaty body.
There was a halo of it.
A dark, dense fog.
I struggled for a breath, sickened by the same man who had almost sent me to my knees two hours earlier.
Turns out, I should have trusted my instincts, after all.
“Your heart is beating so fast. Excited, love?”
Love?
This guy was seriously confused. Confused and deranged and disgusting, and I had the overwhelming compulsion to spit in his face.
I did.
Shouting a profanity, he gripped me by the jaw.
Hard.
“You fuckin’ bitch,” he gritted in his English accent, cinching down tighter. “You’ll learn better than to cross me.”
Something fake and desperate bled from his being. I wondered if he were half as desperate as me.
Urges hit, a storm of panic and survival.
Instinct kicking in.
Fight or flight.
I surged forward, taking the jerk by surprise.
My forehead connected with his.
Hard.
A white-hot splinter of pain cracked through my head at the connection, but at least I was prepared for it. I managed to keep my footing at the impact when he completely lost his and stumbled back.
Momentarily stunned.
I didn’t give him time to recover.
I grabbed him by the shoulders, and I drew my knee up as hard as I could. The crunch vibrated up my leg when my knee made contact with his crotch.
The slit of my dress ripped at the same time.
His wail of agony was at one with the chaos, with the throbbing laughter and the beat of the drums and the pulse of the music that made it feel as if I’d stepped into a house of horrors.
Those crazy-ass mirrors surrounding me. Distorting everything. My brain rattled and my spirit shaking.
Adrenaline sloshed through my veins, bleeding out and draining free and leaving me gasping.
Visions rushed.
Taking me to another time. Another place.
Fast flickers of a nightmare that I would forever relive.
Frantic, desperate.
Lana on her knees.
The glint of silver.
A deafening ring.
Blood.
Blood.
So much blood.
I choked on the memory. The man in my gallery. Backing us into the corner. Pulling the trigger while I’d had to watch hopelessly.
I staggered backward while the dirtbag bent in two, struggling to get his breath.
Flight kicked in.
The desperate need to flee.
Hide.
Remove myself from the situation.
I raced upstairs, the torn skirt of my dress clutched in my trembling hands, holding it up so I wouldn’t trip on the long white fabric. The second I hit the landing, I ran to the right, my high heels clicking on the wooden floor as I raced down the hall.
I bypassed the room I’d been staying in for the last three weeks and, instead, I rushed all the way to the end of the corridor where a second set of stairs led to the top floor.
It called to me like a beacon. Like safety was written in red, glaring lights.
Hand clinging to the railing, I fumbled up the steps to the third floor, and a harsh breath of relief gushed from my lungs when I caught sight of the closed double doors on the right.
I burst through them like my life depended on it.
I slammed the doors shut behind me and whirled around so I could lock them.
Hands shaking.
Spirit manic.
Nothing quite cooperating.
Metal scraped as the lock finally engaged, the sound of it like a gunshot reverberating through the dark, vacant room. I dropped my head to the ornate wood, hot air jerking in and out of my lungs as I tried to steady myself after the altercation.
Never before had
