Where was her aunt? Why was she letting this happen?
Maybe these people weren’t here for a party. Maybe they’d broken in? Even now, her aunt could be tied up somewhere. Mierda! Perhaps she should call the cops.
The two men rolled into a side table and the vase on top smashed to the ground. A familiar screech reached her ears. Okay, so her aunt was here somewhere.
“What did you just do! Look at the mess!” Rosalind stomped her way into the foyer, her face filled with anger. So at least she wasn’t tied up somewhere, being tortured.
The two men froze. Marisol watched on, her heart in her throat. These didn’t look like the type of men who would take being told off by a woman well. Would one of them go for her aunt now? What would she do if they did? She couldn’t let her be hurt.
“Babe, jeez, what’s the problem?”
A familiar man stepped forward.
Oh shit. Fuck. It seemed she’d stupidly stayed too long. She should have gotten out when she could.
“The boys are just having fun. Letting off steam. They’ve had a tough few weeks. Leave them to it.” Saber wrapped his arm around Rosalind’s waist, leading her away. The two idiots got up and followed them, now laughing with each other as if sharing a huge joke. She let out a sigh of relief, grateful they’d slammed the door shut behind them. Music roared through the house, it practically rocked the house on its foundations.
She stepped forward, ready to fly upstairs when her wrist was grabbed. She let out a small cry as she was shoved back against the wall. Her other wrist was grabbed, her hands pushed above her head.
Oh no.
No. No. No.
He was here. One hand held both of her wrists while he ran a finger down her cheek, smiling evilly.
“Hello, Marisol. I’ve been waiting for you.”
After getting out of the shower and drying off, he checked his phone. Time to call Marisol and tuck her into bed.
He loved this time best. He tried to text her when he could. But his nighttime calls to put her to bed were the favorite part of his day.
However, it wasn’t the same as having her with him. As seeing her sweet smile. Hearing her laughter.
Slipping on a pair of cotton pajama pants and a sleeveless T-shirt, he picked up his phone and headed into the living room. He hadn’t pushed her for an answer about whether she wanted more than friendship. He thought that was best left until he could see her in person and use his powers of persuasion more fully.
With a grin, he pressed on her contact number. It rang then flipped to voicemail.
Huh. That was odd.
Marisol’s breath sawed in and out of her lungs. Panic made her stomach revolt. She was close to vomiting or passing out. She wasn’t sure what. She felt a vibration from where her handbag was pushed against her side. Her phone was ringing.
Linc.
Oh God. Linc. What she wouldn’t give to have him walk through that door right now and save her. Because she sure as heck didn’t know how to save herself.
She always felt safe around him. And she very much needed that right now.
“What’s wrong? Haven’t you got a greeting for your brother?”
“You’re not my b-brother.”
Stay strong, Marisol.
He wrapped his free hand around her neck, pressing against it until she could barely take in a breath.
Please stop. Please stop.
Tears filled her eyes as she tried to fight him, to free her hands. But he was too strong for her. If anything, her pathetic attempts to free herself seemed to stir him on.