Chapter 39

Chloe

My head is pounding, like I've had too much to drink. As I shake it slightly and attempt to focus my vision on what's around me, I try to adjust, my ass sore where I'm sitting.

I can't move.

Panic sweeps through me rapidly, and I'm suddenly very awake—and very aware that I'm tied to a chair.

As my heart thunders in my ears, I look around. I don't know where I am. The place is cold and mostly empty, with extremely high ceilings, like I'm in a warehouse.

It's dark, though, and the building clearly hasn't been used in a while.

Pain thumps behind my eyes as my pulse continues to hammer, and a moan just slips free.

"Well, good morning, Chloe."

Terror rocks me to my core. I know that voice.

No. It can't be.

Stepping into the light from the shadows is a tall man, thin and wearing a simple gray suit. Sandy blonde hair is shaggy near his dark eyes, and I can see a five-o'clock shadow covering his chin.

"Ethan."

The name comes out as barely a whisper and a tear slides down my cheek.

The heels of his shoes click against the cracked linoleum and cement floor as he walks up to me. Even though I can't move, I still flinch back, trying to put more distance between us.

All I can do, though, is shake my head, which happens on instinct. I can't process the horror of being so near him again, and everything feels like I'm falling or sinking.

It's too much.

"Didn't I tell you?" He circles around behind the chair, and I feel his breath as he speaks from the side of my face, making my skin crawl. "Didn't I say that I'd find you, little Chloe?"

My mouth is dry as my forehead beads with sweat, and I pull against the ropes holding me. The sound of my heart in my ears is deafening.

"You can't keep me here. I have people who'll come looking. They'll call the cops and?—"

"I'm well prepared for the Shaws." Ethan comes to stand before me again, glancing over his shoulder before returning his evil gaze to me. "You didn't think I'd do this alone, did you?"

More figures move at the back of the room in the shadows, and I hear ominous chuckling.

"All well-armed and very capable of dealing with a few ex-Marines."

Flicking my eyes back to Ethan, I shiver beneath the ice of his expression. He's going to let them kill whoever comes in here looking for me.

Dom .

I can't let him or his brothers get hurt. I just can't.

How do I keep them safe? How do I get rid of Ethan?

I know I'm a loose end to him, a mess he needs to clean up, and I cling to the hope that ensuring him I'm not a threat will work.

"I-I haven't said anything." My voice cracks as I stumble over my words. "I won't. I won't tell anyone about your business."

Ethan laughs in a hard burst. There's no humor behind it, and I catch a glimpse of his true self sparking behind his eyes.

"You think that's it? You think I'm going to be fine with just heading back to the city with the Cobras?"

He crosses the short distance in front of me in a flash, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head to the side.

Pain lances through my scalp, and I can't stop the yelp as he grips my head.

"No, no, no." Ethan leans forward, running his nose up the side of my face. "I didn't come all this way just to lose my prize."

More tears run down my face as memories of Ethan throwing me down and demanding whatever he wanted blend with the present horror of being tied to a chair and at his mercy again .

"You belong to me."

Gripping hard, Ethan abruptly throws my head to the side, a few strands of my hair tearing free and protruding from between his fingers.

"And if I can't have you, right where I fucking want you—" he lets the hair fall to the floor "—I'm afraid no one will."

The bottom of my stomach drops out, and a lump of panic forms in my throat.

It's one thing to think someone might kill you. It's quite another to know, without a shadow of doubt, that he's poised to do it, right here and now.

And it's not just you he'd be killing.

My pulse hammers harder at the thought, spiraling.

I didn't do anything. I'm not the bad guy here, and I'm still going to perish in some fucking dirty warehouse?

No, this can't be happening.

Bile rises as my stomach churns, and I thrash against the ropes holding me to the chair. I don't even know what I'd do if I got free.

I can't fight off Ethan alone, and again, even if I lucked out and got the jump on him, there's a crew of thugs to contend with.

"Please." All I can think to do is beg. "Let me go. I'll never bother you again. I swear."

The sobs kick into overdrive, and I struggle to breathe around the ache they cause in my chest and throat.

Ethan saunters over again, his eyes wide in an expression that makes my blood run cold.

A knife appears in his hand as he removes it from his pocket. It's not open, but my entire body locks into a stony prison of terror.

He's at my side in a flash again, running the cold length of the metal down my cheek. Ethan smears the tears coating my skin.

"I like seeing you like this, Chloe." He comes around behind me, poking my other cheek with the closed end of the knife. "You're always prettiest when you know your place."

No. This is so bad . My eyes flick down to my lower belly, and it's almost like my heart is being torn in half while still in my chest.

"You can't do this." I shake my head as I try to hold Ethan's eyes, pleading. "You can't."

He just chuckles, evil and full of venom. "Oh? And why not?"

"I'm…"

"Speak up, darling. I haven't got all day." Ethan bends at the waist to put his ear level with my mouth.

My mouth cracks open, making my dry lips ache as I frown. I can barely raise my voice above a whisper.

"I'm pregnant."

Ethan rears back, and I can tell at once that it was the wrong thing to say.

He glares at me like I've told him I murdered his puppy, and I watch the shock on his face change to a distorted contortion of rage.

"No." Ethan shakes his head, gripping the knife.

"No!"

Then the back of his hand collides with my cheek, knocking my head to the side. I cry out against the whip of pain that ricochets through my entire head, my sight immediately going black from the well-placed blow.

He's never hit me in the face before.

It was always body shots, things he could hide, but the wild look in his eyes tells me Ethan doesn't give a fuck about what I look like to everyone else. I won't be leaving here for anyone to see me.

I blink long and hard, trying to get my vision to return. When it does, it's fuzzy, and my equilibrium is totally off.

Dizzying, confusing images of boxes and crates and shadows blur together until I finally focus on a tall, slender shape moving closer from the back of the room.

It's a person.

"Please," I manage to squeak out, "please, you have to help me. I'm no threat. I'm just…"

My mouth fills with the taste of copper, and I instinctively spit. The splatter hits the cement in an ugly slash of red.

"Please!" I cry out, seeing more and realizing it has to be a man. "I'm pregnant. Please don't let him hurt me."

It didn't work on Ethan, but maybe someone else will be more merciful.

He doesn't respond, but he's only a few feet away, and in just a moment, he'll come into the light.

When the dim overhead fluorescence falls over the man's shoulders and reveals his face, I nearly throw up.

"That's your problem, not mine."

I know him. I know exactly who this man is, and the betrayal that pours into me like bleach in a wound forces renewed tears to the surface.

I'm done for.