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SEVENTEEN
Amethyst
I ripped awayfrom a punishing grip and backed up.
“What do you want?”
I sounded afraid, terrified as a matter of fact, but that sound in my voice was nothing compared to what I felt.
The man who had invaded my space lunged at me by way of answer.
I stepped back again, but he grabbed at my waist and pulled me down to the floor.
He was on me like lightning, moving so fast I had no time to react.
I had been so stunned when he’d pushed his way in, I hadn’t really had a chance to look at him, not that I’d be able to identify him with the mask he was wearing.
He had dark eyes and dark lashes, but I couldn’t see his hair or skin. I guessed he was a little under six feet tall, and strong from the way he’d managed to pull me down.
Really strong, I amended after he punched me.
My teeth rattled with the force of his punch, and I worried that he had cracked my cheekbone. My face was practically throbbing, but the pain didn’t make an impact.
Instead, something primal told me that I had to fight this man off if I wanted to live to see another day.
And despite the state of my life, I wanted to keep it.
I wasn’t ready to die.
One look at him, and I knew that was exactly what was going to happen if I didn’t fight, and now.
I kicked out, my foot landing somewhere between his rib cage and hip.
Whatever I had hit was a tender spot, and he flinched, letting go just enough to allow me to wiggle away. And I did. Then turned so that I was on my hands and knees and tried to scurry away.
“Ah!” I screamed as he wrapped his fingers around my ankle.
He pulled hard, and I collapsed. My stomach scraped against the wood floor.
I clawed at the floor, trying to slow my momentum as he pulled me back, but nothing helped.
He was pulling me like I was nothing, and I knew if I didn’t fight him off, this would be the end.
I hooked my hands around the base of my coffee table.
My metal coffee table that weighed over two hundred pounds.
I’d had to pay the movers extra to bring it in and had fretted over the cost, over the practicality of having that piece of furniture in my house.
Now I knew it had been worth every penny.
The table was solid and was proving to be my lifeline. He pulled once, twice, and I moved only centimeters.
He let out a yell of frustration then spoke. “I was going to make this quick. But not anymore.”
His voice was low, gravelly, and held a dark promise.
One that scared the shit out of me.
