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I drag my fingers along the chain-link fence, picking my way through the alley. Trash and debris line the fences along either side of me, so it’s a tough walk to manage in high heels. I peer behind me but can’t see the building I left or the casino on the other side of it. Even the lights are mostly gone. Just a faint brightness in the sky remains from that direction. I keep moving, focusing ahead again, praying I don’t run into anyone out here.
A shout comes from somewhere behind me, and panic rushes through my veins. Fuck these shoes. Quickly, I unbuckle the tiny silver buckles at my ankles and rip the shoes off my feet. Then I do the only thing I can… I run.
My bare feet slap against the rough concrete. Each step shoots a twinge of pain into my ankles and calves, but I shove the pain away. I can’t slow down. Not with him chasing me.
I need to get out of this maze. When I reach the end of the fence line, it cuts to the left, and I jog, hoping it will eventually let me out. Another bellow of rage reaches me, so much closer than before. The fence cuts in another direction, and finally, it opens up to a vacant lot.
My muscles burn as I push forward through the knee-high grass. Every rock scrapes against the soles of my feet, but none of the pain matters if I can escape. I can feel freedom, see it, almost taste it. I don’t know where I’ll go after this or how I’ll survive, but I will manage.
The bubble of joy pops when an arm clamps around my midsection and drags me into the solid rock of a body. I don’t need to look to know it’s him. I let out a whimper of defeat and try to shove his arm away. He only adds his other one, squeezing me tighter in his grasp.
I use my shoes as a bat, swinging them wildly toward his face and head. One makes contact, or at least I hope it does by the grunt I catch. When I go for another swing, he loosens his hold enough to grab my wrists and tosses the heels away into the field. It doesn’t stop me from fighting. I claw, scratching at his arms and twisting to do the same to his face.
“If you don’t fucking knock it off, I’m going to knock your fucking lights out,” he growls into the shell of my ear.
I scream, the sound piercing the night air while I continue to fight, adding my legs to the mix, kicking and shoving my heels into his shins. With every twist of my body against his, my dress rides up to bunch around the arm that is pinning me tight against him. I don’t care that my ass is hanging out for the world to see. I just need to get away from him.
“Stellina,” he warns, his voice an angry hiss of air in my ear.
I’m almost out of strength. The lights in the distance seem so far now, out of my reach. I give him one last kick to the shin and sink my nails into his forearm. True defeat claims me. I’ve got nothing left, and I sob in his hold. No tears fall, though. It’s more out of exhaustion than anything else.
When I don’t hit him again, he relaxes his grip around my middle, allowing me to draw a full breath again. He spins me in his arms to pin us together, front to front. His dark blue eyes are calm, but I can tell he is seething by the hard set of his jaw and the way his fingers dig into my back. My dress is still bunched up between us. My legs and underwear are completely exposed to the cool night air. I don’t dare pull them back into place for fear of him growing angrier.
“The first thing I’m going to do is spank the shit out of you. And then, depending on how well you endure it, I’ll drag you back to my house and keep you in chains until the auction. Are you happy now? You don’t have a single thing to say to me?” he bites out an inch from my face.
I flinch away, turning my cheek, so he’s not screaming directly at my mouth. He doesn’t like that, and his jaw tightens, as do his fingers, digging into my tender flesh.
He shoves me backward, and I nearly trip over my feet. “Stay the fuck there. If you so much as move an inch, I’ll knock you out and drag your unconscious body home.”
I gulp and pull at my dress to cover some of my exposed skin as he jerks his suit jacket off and throws it on the dirt. Then splits his cuffs to roll up his sleeves. Even in the dark, I can see the ink splayed up his forearms that disappear under the fabric.
