Shaking my head, I turn around and walk back down the stairs.
When I reach the bottom, I can still hear him prowling around upstairs, so I head to the kitchen to get a drink.
I’m pulling open the cabinet above the counter and stretching up on my tiptoes to grab a glass when I sense his presence filling the small space.
Still annoyed by the way he treated me, I decide to give him a taste of his own medicine and ignore him as I pull the glass down.
Suddenly his shadow rolls over me, swallowing me up. He shuts the cabinet for me and then his fingers lightly brush down my arm.
Jerking away from him, I move over to the sink and hold the glass under the faucet.
“Is the house secure?” I snap as I turn the faucet on.
“Yes,” he replies, that one word dropping from his lips as if it’s somehow both significant and insignificant.
Whipping around when he moves closer to me, I lift the glass between us. “Well, I suppose that’s good then.”
I take a drink and begin to lower the glass back down when he decides to yank the rug out from beneath my feet. “Alexei contacted us. He’s demanded you back.”
The glass slips from my fingers and shatters against the floor.
At once every fear I’ve been carrying around inside seems to grow, looming larger.
Water splashes against my ankles but I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.
“What?” I gasp, hoping I heard him wrong.
Gabriel looks down at the floor, at all the glass, then he grabs me by the hips.
Picking me up, he sets me on the counter with a thump.
“What did you say?” I repeat, my voice a harsh whisper as I tip my head back to look up at him.
The glass on the floor crunches beneath Gabriel’s boots as he steps into me. “Alexei has demanded you back.”
Those words drive into me like nails in my coffin.
I’m dead… dead…
So fucking dead.
I thought… Well, I guess I secretly hoped that Alexei wouldn’t want me now. That he’d consider me not worth the effort and move on.
But if he wants me back…
Gabriel’s thighs bump into my legs as if he’s seeking permission to press closer, but I leave them closed to him.
I can’t let him in until I know if he’s going to betray me. If he’s going to give me up.
I don’t think he will, but I’ve been betrayed by so many people I thought were looking out for me, I have to be cautious.
Before I can ask the question that’s sticking in my throat, he bends over me, grabbing the counter with both hands. “He’s threatened to take our women and rape them to death. He’s threatened to have his men fuck our children.”
“Oh god,” I moan and try not to sway.
One hand comes up to my neck as if I’m some fucking damsel in a movie.
But the fear, the terror, it’s real. It’s alive inside me, each threat feeding its power.
Gabriel’s eyes lock on mine, the intense hold of them the only thing keeping me from fainting. “He’s threatened to murder us all if we don’t hand you over.”
Of course he did. I’d expect no less from a monster like him.
He’ll probably even do worse… if given the chance.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This is the worst fucking thing that could happen. There is no doubt in my mind that Alexei will try to make good on his threats. He’s probably working on them right now.
Gabriel’s entire family is in great and immediate danger, and it’s all because of me. All because Gabriel took me and didn’t kill me.
“Are—” I start and stop.
I have to fill my lungs with air several times before I can get the question out.
Gabriel watches me, his face growing more and more furious as if he knows exactly what I’m going to ask.
“Are you going to hand me over?”
Gabriel says, “No,” so violently it’s jarring.
My skeleton jolts beneath my skin.
And I’d probably accept that answer, I’d probably leave that statement as it is, even take comfort in his protection, but I’m highly aware that I’m not the only one in danger here.
This goes beyond me, just like he pointed out earlier, and I don’t know if I could live with myself if anyone else got hurt.
“But—” I start to argue, shredding all sense of self-preservation.
There’s a loud crack and I have no clue where it’s coming until I glance down. Somehow, with his grip alone, he’s managed to crack the countertop.
Or maybe that crack has always been there…
There’s no way he could physically do that.
My eyes travel back up his body, taking in his taut muscles and popping veins.
Face strained as if it’s taking everything inside him to keep from erupting, he snaps, “I’m not handing you over, Meghan. You’re mine, and this shit doesn’t change that.”