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She nodded. “They took me out with a blow to the head. I can’t remember anything after that until I woke up in the cage.”
A spear of unadulterated hatred zipped through me.
“The cage?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
She nodded.
Then I heard something and froze.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
He suddenly went ramrod straight and eerily still.
Was telling him about the cage too much?
Did he suddenly realize he was holding his captive in his arms, stroking her head, and letting her tears soak through his T-shirt?
I looked up.
He wasn’t focused on me, though. Instead, his eyes were glued to the door.
“Wha—”
“Shhh.”
I snapped my mouth shut, and my body tightened—as if his tension was contagious.
He wove his arm under my armpits, then lifted me up until we both stood—me flush against him.
He leaned to the side and grabbed a gun—that I hadn’t noticed before—from the nightstand.
What the hell was going on?
He motioned to stay silent and then to the other side of the room.
He slung his arm around my waist, and together, we slowly walked over there.
When he removed his arm from my side, a sudden feeling of cold abandonment came over me.
Ridiculous since he was still standing right next to me.
I watched him open the floor-to-wall closet door, then he pushed the clothes to the side and signed for me to get inside.
We were hiding in the closet? That’s what was happening?
He stepped in behind me, his front pressed against my back.
He closed the door, and we were engulfed in complete darkness.
I could feel my heartbeat—accompanied by his—throbbing in my ears.
I tried to get my breath under control—a futile attempt—which I completely failed at.
Because one realization settled into me like a big rock sinking through water and settling into the riverbed.
If my blue-eyed devil was hiding in a closet, something was seriously wrong.
He slung his left arm around me, pulled me to the side, and did something with his right hand right above my head.
