Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)(87)

Don stood with me. “Well, congrats. I’m glad to see he finally did it.”

I smirked. “Finally? We’ve only been together for a few months. This was fast.”

He sheepishly glanced down at the ground. “Right. Well. Since, it’s Christmas and all, I have a bit of a confession. When I first came in for my interview, I recognized you. I’m a huge boxing fan, and I’d seen you in pictures with him. Everyone thought you were his girlfriend. I forget sometimes that you two were just friends at first.”

My eyes went wide, but a laugh bubbled from my throat. “You rat! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Like you would have hired me if I’d spent the entire interview talking about boxing.”

“If you were signing, I doubt I would have cared. I was desperate. What else have you lied about? Do my cookies suck too?”

“Uh, no. But I will admit your brownies are better,” he teased.

I started collecting my phone and my charger in preparation to leave. “You know, now, I don’t feel so bad about basically abusing your volunteer assistant services.” I smirked. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I need to get home before Quarry sends in the SWAT team to look for me.”

“Smart girl,” Don said, turning the lights off.

After flipping the Christmas music off and arming the security alarm, I was digging my keys from my purse when Don clicked the inside lock and pushed the door open. The alarm started beeping our warning that we had sixty seconds to exit the building just as the cold, biting wind rushed in.

I was still focused on my purse when Don’s back suddenly collided into me, sending us both to the ground. I was in such shock that I didn’t even have time to get my hands under me to break my fall. My head cracked hard against the tile floor, and my vision tunneled.

Then I heard a deep malicious voice roar, “Where the f*ck is he?”

Don climbed off me.

I couldn’t get my bearings to figure out what the hell was going on, but my questions were soon answered.

“Back the f*ck up, Davenport!” Don growled.

My eyes came into focus just as the icy metal edge of a knife landed against my throat. I froze as panic overwhelmed me.

“Where the f*ck is Page?”

“I-I don’t know,” I lied, my eyes filling with tears.

Dropping to his knees over me, he gripped the crown of my hair and pressed the knife even deeper into my throat until I felt the warm trickle of blood slide down to my collarbone.

“Where is he?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but it was too late.

I ran out of time.





“Shut the f*ck up!” I laughed at Till, who was telling yet another embarrassing story from my youth.

“Dirty shirt and all. You didn’t give one single damn. Six years old and you were asking out my girl.”

The whole room was laughing when, suddenly, Leo’s phone started screaming in his pocket. It was an annoying-as-hell ringtone, but it was the way his face paled that really caught my attention.

He quickly released Sarah and frantically started digging out his phone. His wild gaze lifted to mine from across the room. “Call Liv,” he ordered.

My heart lurched, but I followed his direction without question.

“What the hell’s going on?” Slate asked, reading the sudden shift in the room.

Leo ignored him and began pacing the room with his phone at his ear.

The drone of an unanswered phone played in my ear as my eyes remained glued to Leo.

“Rich, tell me all is good,” he barked. After several agonizing seconds, he growled. “Well, she’s not f*cking here yet!” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he lifted his distraught eyes to mine in question.

I shook my head and fear sliced through me—the sound of her voicemail iced my veins even further.

“Get your ass back over there. I’m en route.” He lowered his phone.

His legs were already moving to the front door when I caught his arm.

“What the f*ck?”

He snatched his arm out of my grip, not even sparing me a glance as he raced out the door, yelling, “She supposedly left over a half hour ago, but now, the alarm is going off at the community center.”

Terror and fury mingled in a dangerous cocktail within me. Snatching my keys from my pocket, I rushed out of the door after him.





“Please. Stop,” I cried as Davenport used my hair to force my face into the security panel by the door.

“Turn it the f*ck off!” he shouted.

“I-I can’t think!” I sobbed.

The alarm was blaring, distracting my already-hysterical mind even more.

He yanked my hair so hard that my knees almost buckled from the pain. “Turn it off!” His face shook with exertion, and spit flew from his mouth.

My eyes bounced to Don’s body unconscious on the floor. The moment the alarm had sounded, Don had made a move, but Davenport had been quicker. He’d never even let go of me as he’d landed a nasty right to Don’s chin. The only positive of this was that the knife he had been holding had gone skittering across the floor.

“Now!” he barked, shoving my face back into the security panel.

I sucked in a deep breath and tried to get myself together. Finally, I came up with the right combination of numbers and the room fell quiet.