The Hardest Fall(13)

Before I could talk myself out of it, I stepped out into the open, the rolling pin held high in my hand.

Here goes nothing.

I sucked in air and started tiptoeing on my weak, trembling legs toward the dark figure who still had his back to me.

When I was only a few steps away, I started shaking in the worst way, so I chose to run the last few steps and lifted the baking tool even higher to inflict maximum pain. I released what sounded like a war cry to my ears but was more likely a high-pitched shriek as I hit him right in the back. I was aiming for his head, so…maybe that didn’t work out all that great for me. Probably not a Viking warrior in one of my past lives.

“What the hell—” my killer grunted.

In the amount of time it took me to lift the damn thing again, he’d already spun around and grabbed my wrists in a tight, painful grip that caused the rolling pin to slip out of my fingers as I started screaming.

My breath hitched and I whimpered because I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. I couldn’t exactly wrap my mind around what was happening, but I fought his hold on me like the Viking warrior I was not until my legs gave out.

“Shit,” the man barked, tightening his fingers around my wrists as I started to slide out of his grip and down to my knees. I was trying my best to rip myself out of his grasp.

Nothing worked.

My vision blurred. No air.

He was talking, and I thought what I was hearing was his voice, but it was so damn hard to hear anything through the building pounding pressure in my head, not to mention my poor, wild heart, which was in overdrive.

“Hey! Breathe. Please breathe. Breathe, goddamn it!” my angry killer shouted, and I flinched.

Warm hands cupped my cheeks, and he basically taught me how to breathe again as I sat crumpled on the floor.

Eyes closed.

Heart beating out of control.

“You’re doing great. Just breathe. Yes, just like that. Easy. In, now out. In and out. Good. You’re doing great.”

“Who the hell are you?” I wheezed out when I could, but then I remembered that if he told me who he was, he’d have to kill me. First rule of the dark world of criminals: you see my face, you die. “No, no, don’t tell me. I take that back.” I didn’t really think a thief would just drop everything to help me breathe and calm down…but I wasn’t taking any chances. “You can take anything you want, please don’t hurt me.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m gonna ask you the same thing—who the hell are you?” he asked impatiently. “Hold on.” His hands left my face and I felt him move away from me. I wiped the tears from my eyes just in time to see the lights turn on.

When he came to stand in front of me again, I just about lost it. I was both terrified and shocked, and also very much naked under my tiny towel. Unsure if I was hallucinating due to the lack of air, I just kept staring up at him from my spot on the floor.

“You…but…what in the actual freaking hell?” I stuttered, maybe a tad bit louder than a whisper.

The star of the football team, the wide receiver, Dylan Reed himself, looked down at me with a deep frown forming on his face as he offered me his right hand.

Dumbfounded, I looked at it for a few long seconds before I looked back up at his face again. “What in the actual freaking hell?” I repeated in the same tone, because I couldn’t seem to remember any other words that would be useful for the situation. That was the only vocabulary I could muster up.

Using one hand to hold onto my towel and the other to push myself off the floor, I tried to scramble up on my own. He must’ve taken pity on my weak attempt because he grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

“Do I know…” he murmured when I was finally standing on my own two feet like a normal person, albeit a little shakily, but I was still up on my feet.

I could see recognition set in, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a very bad thing. He asked, “I know you, right?” Before I could try to come up with more words, his mouth transformed and he was offering me a big smile, a smile I’d happened to find very attractive a year before.

“There you are,” he said, finally breaking the awkward silence.

Not sure what that meant, I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah…?” Moving very slowly, I tugged at my hand and managed absolutely nothing.

His smile only got bigger, and instead of letting me go, his grip tightened just a fraction, there then gone. “I thought I’d see you again, eventually—thought I’d get another shot.”

What shot?

I tried to make my lips move and form words, wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but that was when my stupid itty-bitty towel decided to just unravel and drop to the floor. Time stood still, my breath whooshed right out of me, and I froze for the nth time that day. If there was ever a time for the earth to open up and swallow me, that was it. I could do nothing but stand there with my hand in his as we looked at each other for long agonizing seconds, both of us undecided on what to do next. I tried to beg him with my eyes to not look down, but I wasn’t sure he understood what I was saying.

He made his choice, and his eyes started to drop.

I think he saw my boobs. Actually, he definitely saw my boobs, and still very much high on adrenaline, I panicked.

Before his gaze could make it all the way down to complete the full trek, my hand tightened around his—Why is he still holding on to my hand again?—and I threw my body at him, plastering myself to his front, forcing him to take a step back to keep his balance. It was a poor excuse of a tackle, but it hid me from his open view, which was all I was after. The backs of his thighs hit the back of the leather couch and he wrapped an arm around my waist to keep us upright.