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Our eyes met.
His grew wider, and he tried to slam the door shut. I wasn’t having it. I darted forward, unwilling to let him get away so easily.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite fast enough.
He smashed me in the jam, sandwiched between door and frame, crushing the air from my lungs.
“Ouch,” I said.
“Get outta here,” he snapped.
I couldn’t at the moment even if I wanted to. I couldn’t move. “Give me back my laptop.”
He lessened the pressure, keeping me still, but no longer in pain. He kept himself firmly in the way, blocking me from entering.
“Why would I have your laptop?” he asked, the bite of anger dropping from his words.
I wasn’t buying it. I turned my head just enough to see the crinkled eyes beneath his bare brows. “Because you’re a garbage human who threatened to steal all of my things. When my prized possession goes missing, who else should I suspect?”
His features twisted. “Hell if I know. I didn’t touch your stuff.”
He sounded sincere. He looked confused. The expression on his face seemed so genuine, I almost believed him.
“Give it back or I’m calling the cops,” I said.
“Great, you do that, and I’ll tell them how you threatened my life.”
Okay, so I wasn’t entirely innocent in our interactions, but he deserved it. Plus, I hadn’t threatened his life, I’d made a vague threat of undisclosed harm during our last interaction.
I licked my lips. “I’ll tell them how you let yourself into my apartment, waited in there in the dark to threaten me. Which threat do you think they’ll find more sinister, the one coming from a damsel in distress or the one of a wildebeest?”
His features contorted into a snarl. It was the only warning I got before he lifted his foot and slammed it into my shin.
Pain radiated up and down my leg. I groaned and stumbled back.
Maxim slammed the door and locked it.
I was going to the police. My laptop was everything, and there was absolutely no way I was going to let Maxim take that away from me.
THIRTY-SIX
GABRIEL
The vaguely familiar tune Wallace was humming in the front seat pricked at my brain. I felt like I should know what song it was, and also I was already mildly regretting allowing him to drive me.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Always Be My Baby,” he said.
I stared at the small mirror at the front of the car, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Mariah Carey.” He grinned into the rearview. “Classic. Diva. Goddess.”
Ah, now I remembered it. I nodded and turned my attention out the side window.
“You can sing along if you like, Gremlin,” he said.
“No, thank you.”
