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I lift the phone from my ear, but the number is private.
“Avah . . . your boy isn’t in security. He’s not what you think.”
And the phone goes dead.
I almost drop it in absolute disgust. Instead, I start to straighten and gather my things, some photos I took from the recent event that the clients won’t want, but I do. I’m adding some to my portfolio.
My phone lights up again and my knees buckle. “Nicolo?”
“Tell me why I shouldn’t beat your ass to an inch of your life,Tesoro?”
“I didn’t run away if that’s what you think.”
My hand is slippery with sweat as I start for the door. The darkened studio is starting to freak me out, made worse with Nicolo’s voice in my ear on the other end of the phone because wherever he is, he isn’t here.
“I don’t fucking think that, Avah.” He snorts. “Jesus. Your stuff is at my place. But that doesn’t absolve you from a possible ass beating.”
Honestly, if it were anyone else speaking to me like this, I’d be furious. Instead, there’s a rush of something sweet and warm in my veins, and maybe my clit throbs a little at his promise or threat or whatever it’s meant to be. “I’m coming back now.”
I hurry out the door and lock it.
Somehow in the open seems marginally better, but then again, as I sweep the quiet street, the breeze rustling leaves of trees, moving the shadows, maybe it isn’t.
“Just . . . stay where you are.” Irritation is high with gale warnings in his tone.
“No, I’m almost at my car.”
The words of the weird call slap at me, but I can’t deal with them now. Later.
“Fuck, Avah, just—”
I scream as I’m slammed into my car, the phone skittering on the pavement as the big envelope I have is pulled from me.
Big hands maul at me, and I scream again, kicking out. “Fucking bitch.”
I kick again, flailing out with my hands, and I hit the ground hard, pain ricocheting up my leg. I try and move, but those hands dig in, hauling me up. I punch back, aiming low, and connect with the assailant’s crotch. I don’t think, I grab and twist, and there’s an unholy howl before I’m dropped again. For a moment, I’m free.
I rise, but I’m between my car and the guy. I try and dart sideways, but a hand grabs my arm. I pull hard, trying to get loose. The hand releases me, and I need to get in my car. It’s the only way out. If I can get it open and hit with my door, then maybe I have a chance. Maybe—
My keys are in my bag, and whoever it is doesn’t go for that, but they grab at me again.
There’s a wild growl, and the man at me is no longer there. I use that.
This time, I swing my bag, connecting with flesh. I try and grab the keys as I gulp in air. I want to turn and look but I want to get into the car more. Or run. Get away.
And then something big slams into me.
There’s a grunt.
And bigger, stronger hands hurl me into the car.
I scream again. Total panic swallows me as I’m hauled up and back.
This time, I know they’re too strong.
I’m never getting away.
ChapterThirteen
