I was so caught up in my paranoid thoughts I didn’t realize Matt and Ethan had stopped in front of me and were watching me with concern.
“Breathe, Rachel,” Ethan said, putting his hands on my shoulders.
The hard feel of them gave me something to focus on besides my crazy thoughts and I looked up at him. I felt the heat of his palms, the squeeze of his fingers, the weight of his touch.
“Breathe. Slower. Good,” he crooned.
Matt stroked his hand over my head, his fingers sliding through my hair. “f**k, baby, we’re not going to hurt you.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that.” I closed my eyes, sighed. I’d screwed up already. “I’m not scared of you.”
Both men frowned as they loomed over me, blocking most of the light from the hotel room’s window.
“Then what is it?” Ethan asked, his voice
