Page 93 of Collateral Love
He grabbed my chair and tipped it backward, sending me crashing to the floor. Pain flared down my spine, sharp and immediate. My breath left my lungs in a harsh sound I couldn’t stop.
He crouched over me.
“You think you’re running something?” he hissed.
I met his eyes.
“I know I am,” I said. “And that terrifies you.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
He dragged me up by my arms, hauled me across the floor, and shoved me against the wall. My shoulder screamed. While I should have been begging him to stop, I welcomed it. Pain anchored me in my body and kept me from drifting. I knew I sustained so many injuries and the worst thing I could do was sleep.
“You don’t get to talk like you’re in control,” he said. “Not here.”
I laughed. Low. Hoarse.
“You brought me here because I am,” I said. “Men like you don’t kidnap women they think are weak.”
His hand tightened around my throat.
His grip was tight but not enough to kill me, but it did scare me.
I let my body go loose, and I let my eyes flutter.
Men like him mistook compliance for surrender.
I let my body dangle. I collapsed to the floor, coughing, forcing air back into my lungs in controlled pulls.
He stepped back, adjusting his jacket like he needed distance from his own reaction.
“You think Zayden’s coming for you,” he said.
“He already is,” I replied.
“You think he’s being smart about it,” Charles continued. “You think he’s calm.”
“He always is,” I said. “That’s why you’re pacing.”
He kicked the chair across the room.
The sound echoed.
Good.
That meant he was unraveling.
“You still protecting your sister?” he asked suddenly.
The air changed.
That was deliberate.
That was a threat.
I stood slowly, ignoring the ache in my knees.
“You bring Chanel into this,” I said evenly, “and I promise you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
