Hold You Against Me (Stripped 4)

I can’t remember what he’d supposedly done. But no one in that ballroom has clean hands. Not even me. We all benefit from the criminal enterprise in some way, even if it’s only the bed we sleep in or the guards that lock us in. “Not really.”

“Good.” A glint enters his eyes. “I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot.”

Suspicion is a dark knot in my chest. “Are you friends with Byron?”

“Good friends, yes. We go way back.”

My heart pounds. Honor would never send one of Byron’s friends to me. She wouldn’t trust him any more than I do. “He said something about wanting me to meet his friends. Was he talking about you?”

Dark eyes study me. “Direct. I like that in a girl. I hope we can speak frankly with each other.”

“Why would that matter?”

“Because we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other. At least, if I have my way.” He winks to lighten the words, but I can read between the lines. He always gets his way.

“I don’t understand.”

He shrugs. “You know how these things work. Powerful people make powerful enemies. We need to stick together. Like Byron and Honor, for example.”

We are nothing like Byron and Honor. They’re engaged. And if that was a marriage proposal, it was seriously lame. “I’m fifteen.”

That earns me a chuckle. He has handsome features and an expensive tux, but he’s twisting and distorting while I look at him. Everything looks exaggerated, fake. His smile. His hair. Even the good humor in his eyes. It’s a creepy kind of humor. “I know you’re too young for anything serious. We’re just getting to know each other. Getting to know if…there’d even be a point in pursuing this, understand?”

No. “And if there is?”

“Then you’d still stay here, finish your studies. You’d be under Byron’s protection. I’d visit from time to time.”

In other words, he’d be free to play the field while I’d stay locked up in here. Gross. “I’d like to find my sister now.”

“Look, Clara.” He drops his head. It’s an endearing move. A practiced move. “The truth is, Byron didn’t only introduce me to you because of the family connections we could make. He thought I’d like you…and I do.”

Somehow I don’t think he’s talking about my personality. “Why would he think that?”

“You have a certain innocence. A youthfulness I find appealing.”

It’s called being underage, jackass. “Well, thanks. I guess. I’d like to find my sister, though. I’m worried about her.”

“You never have to worry about her. Byron would never let anything happen to her.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. I take a step back. Then there’s a hand clamped around my wrist. Javier’s hand. “Let me go.”

He pulls me closer. I wobble on my high heels, almost falling into him. The shawl comes lose. His gaze drops and darkens.

“Clara, I think you and I really get along.”

“Let go of me now.”

He walks forward, and I have no choice but to walk backward, stumbling as I go. One of my shoes twists off, and then the other. I’m off balance, almost falling, except that he’s holding me up, fingers clenched into my skin, wrenching me. The trellis is at my back, the same metal trellis I use to climb down, the one I use to escape, and now it’s part of my prison. I’m caught between those unforgiving bars and his body, breath coming fast. Now I understand how Honor feels. I understand why she puts up with it—because she has no choice. I knew it before, but I never experienced it until now, never felt fear like a living thing inside me, clawing its way up my throat.

I kick at him, even as part of me knows that will only make it worse. I don’t have the poise and class and core of steel that Honor has. I can’t endure this, even when I know I have to. I can only fight.

“You little bitch,” he snaps as my knee connects with his shin.

He twists my wrist, and I’m facing the wall. The scarf is long gone, and my breasts are pressing into the metal criss-cross. Javier is holding me in place, his breath hot against my temple. “I want us to get off on the right foot, Clara. I told you that.”

And this is the right foot. Violence. Coercion. Tears stream down my face. There’s no way out.

This is how Honor must feel. Trapped.