Holy s**t.
No, no, no, this was not happening.
“I should f*****g kill you.”
Oh my God, this was bad. My mind was reeling with discordant feelings of elation and relief, of sheer horror and panic.
It was f*****g Van.
A shrill scream tore from my throat, muffled, and I tried with everything I had in me to break free, but he seemed unfazed.
He leaned in even closer, pressing me harder against the rough brick wall, and when he spoke again, his voice so deep and rumbly and low in my ear, I shuddered.
“Come on, princess, you’ve trained for this.” His grip on my wrists tightened.
Asshole.
In between screams, I heard a sudden shuffling and a short gasp on the other side of the alleyway, and I tried to jerk to the side. I screamed with urgency.
Van leaned away from me. “Stay on the f*
