Page 52 of Brutal

---

I step into the hallway and close the door behind me. Then I reach for my phone.

“Any news about who was there?” I ask when my call connects.

“We’re working on it.”

“Work faster.”

I end the call and start down the hall.

Delaney Cross thinks she stepped into my world tonight.

She did.

But she wasn’t the only one.

And whoever else has eyes on her is now my problem.

12

DELANEY

The door clicks shut behind him.

I don’t move.

For a few seconds—maybe longer—I just stand there, staring at the wood like it might open again. Like he might come back and finish what I’m pretty sure we both wanted.

I exhale slowly, but it doesn’t help. My breath doesn’t steady. My pulse doesn’t slow.

My wrist?—

I flex it once and then again, as if I can work the feeling out of it—the warmth and tingling that still persists.

I can’t.

The spot where he held me still burns. Not in a bad way. But not in a good way either. Because as much as I yearn for Samson Vexley, I know I can’t go there.

“Stop,” I mutter.

Like that’s going to do anything.

I drop my hand, turn away from the door, and force myself to move.

Kitchen.

Water.

Something normal.

I grab a glass, fill it, take a long swallow. The coolness should help. Ground me. Pull me back.

Yeah, right.

I set the glass down harder than I mean to. The sound echoes in the quiet space.

God, everything feels off.

I brace my hands on the counter and close my eyes for a second.

---