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I scream, flinging myself away from him. At least I try to fling myself away. But whoever is in the room with me must be a ninja because they're standing behind me. All I manage to do is fling myself right into his arms.
They close around me and a surge of panic fires through me. My mind short-circuits, fight or flight kicking in. I thrash like a hellcat, trying to get free, but he yanks me up against his chest, easily subduing me. I manage to bring my knee up and slam it into his upper thigh, narrowly missing his groin.
"Fuck," he growls, momentarily relaxing his hold on me.
I use that split second to my advantage, yanking one hand free to scratch him.
"Son of a bitch," he snarls, grabbing me again. The next thing I know, I'm on the bed with him on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress.
"Let me go!" I cry, tears welling in my eyes as panic threatens to overwhelm me.
"Easy, baby doll," Jude rasps in my ear. "Easy. I'm not going to hurt you."
"J-Jude?" I gasp, every muscle in my body relaxing all at once.
"Yeah. Fucking hell," he swears, rolling off the bed. "Who did you think it was?"
"I…I…" I don't know what I thought. Iwasn'tthinking. "You grabbed me."
"I won't be doing that again," he growls, flipping on the light. "Jesus Christ, Devin."
I blink up at him, my stomach clenching. His white button down is rumpled, the sleeves rolled up. His hair is a mess and he's scowling daggers at me, but he looks gorgeous. Dismay courses through me when I see the scratches across his cheek.
"You climbed through my window," he says.
"I'm sorry." Naturally, I do the least helpful thing possible in this situation. I start crying. I don't even know why! Adrenaline, nerves, shame, fear? A combination of all four? I don't know. But I just assaulted him in his room, which I broke into…and he's a lawyer.
"Are youcrying?" He sounds horrified. Looks it too.
"N-n-no," I lie, squeezing my eyes closed and then covering them with my hands like that's going to help hide the fact that I'm bawling.
"Jesus. Did I hurt you?" The bed shifts as he sits beside me. A second later, I feel his hands on me, running down my body as he checks me for injuries. His hands are warm and rough, but his touch is gentle. "Did I hurt you, baby doll? I need you to answer me."
"N-no," I whisper.
He expels a breath.
"I hurt you."
"It's a scratch, Devin."
"Are you going to have me arrested?"
He pries my hands from my face. "Look at me."
I shake my head.
"Look at me," he growls.
I reluctantly crack my eyes open to peek up at him.
"You've been sleeping in my bed for the last week." It's not a question or a guess. It's a simple statement of fact. He knows I've been staying here. Oh no.
"Please don't call the police," I cry, scrambling to sit upright as more tears pour down my face. "I p-promise I'll l-leave and not come back. I didn't t-take anything except a few snacks and a toothbrush and deodorant and books to read. I'll pay for e-everything." I try to slide around him off the bed, but he grabs me again, his hands fitting easily around my waist.
"Stop," he commands. "You aren't going anywhere."
My shoulders slump, defeat coursing through me in a black cloud of doom. It's over. He's going to call the police, who will call my brother. He'll bribe my way out of jail…and I'll never be allowed to leave Houston again. My freedom will end in handcuffs and humiliation.
