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In the stark quiet, I hear his voice, feel his fingers shove inside my mouth: Your mouth wants me, whore. You’re going to take what I give you.
There is another suspect.
Mason.
In the penthouse of the Skylark, inside the corner alcove of The Firm, Caleb Mason whispered those words to me and I felt it then—that gut feeling. Only how was I supposed to decipher the difference between his actions and any other there?
I did sense it, though. That same vile aura that lingered around my own rapist.
Malcolm Bates may be innocent, because one of his lawyers is framing him.
I pump my hand a couple of times to stop the trembling before I grab the victim’s statement and my purse. I’m pulling out my phone to call Chase as I enter the hallway.
“Seems we both had the same idea.”
A splash of cold fear freezes me in place. I clutch my phone, my only lifeline.
“Working late, that is,” Mason says. “I just can’t seem to get this case out of my head. Keeps me up at night.”
“I forgot something in my office,” I say, trying to disguise the tremor in my voice. “I’m leaving now.”
Mason’s heavy footfalls echo through the hallway. “Rather late to be working. Must have forgotten something quite important.”
I tuck my phone against my chest and start toward the bank of elevators. “Just my purse,” I say, quickly formulating the distance to my escape. “See you tomorrow.”
“Alexis, stop.”
I don’t. I pick up my pace.
“I told you to stop—” His voice is closer, and as the panic reaches my heart, I break into a run.
His growl wraps around me the same moment his arms seize my waist. Mason lifts my feet from the floor. I’m kicking and wriggling. “Let me go!”
“You’re so fucking disobedient,” he hisses in my ear.
I struggle against him, but that only helps strengthen his grip. My scream is cut short as he tightens his arms. He shoves my body against the wall, my face mashed against it.
“I obey my Master,” I say, my breathing painful due to his vise-like hold. “Not you.”
His deep chuckle crawls over my skin. “I’m going to enjoy teaching you differently.”
“Chase is going to—”
“What?” He hauls me away from the wall and plucks the statement from my hand. “I hardly think Chase is going to be able to do much, considering how distressed he’ll be once he discovers you’re gone.”
My arms wrapped around my stomach, I slow my breathing, trying to control the adrenaline coursing through my body.
“I was all for letting you be, Alexis.” His eyes skim the statement and then pin me with a narrowed glare. “I mean, hell. Do you know how many whores I say that to? How many nasty little tidbits I whisper in their ears when I’m fucking their brains out?”
I can’t quell the tremors racking my body.
He laughs again, shaking his head. “But damn if you’re not the smart little whore. I heard it in your voice the moment you made the connection.” He moves closer. “You’re very transparent, Alexis. Now give me your damn phone.”
Within seconds, his hand is clamped around my throat. My hands latch on to his as I gasp past the constriction. He holds me there a moment longer, his teeth bared in a mocking grin, before he releases me and scoops my phone from the floor.
I fill my lungs as I hold my neck, coughing around my restricted airway.
“So fucking defiant,” he says, looking through my phone. “I don’t know what’s so special about you, why Chase just can’t seem to help himself.” His gaze pins me. “But I’m going to have a fucking fun time figuring it out.”
