“All right.”
He hung up without saying good-bye, which didn’t surprise me in the slightest, and I leaned against the counter, still staring at that photo. Was that his brother? The one who had thought Lucas was half fish? It very well might be him, but if so . . . he was very different from Lucas. While Lucas was cautious and guarded, he still had that spark of life inside him that told you exactly how alive he was. But this guy looked cold and dead in the eyes. As if nothing and no one mattered to him at all.
Like all he cared about was himself and what he could get out of life.
I sat down on the couch and pulled up the drink recipes I wanted to try out later tonight. I always had lots of guys in my bar, but now it was time to try to draw in the ladies. So I had researched a slew of fruity cocktails to test out. After I sent my shopping list to Lucas, I put the lasagna in the oven, dusted off my hands, and smiled. This might not be a real relationship, but tonight felt . . . nice.
I scanned the apartment. I’d cleaned today, too. I was never one to sit around twiddling my thumbs, so this wasn’t any exception. Sure, I’d been forbidden from leaving, but I had to do something to keep myself occupied. I’d spent the better half of the morning pacing, bored out of my mind. I’d been about five seconds from going into the shop downstairs and begging to do some clerical work, before I’d decided to try my hand at being productive up here. And it had been—
A knock sounded on the door, and I jumped.
I stared at it, not moving. I wasn’t supposed to leave, or answer the door, for anyone. I was under strict orders to avoid contact with the outside world at all costs, unless Lucas was at my side. I found it all to be a bit over-the-top, but I’d decided to honor his wishes. So I wasn’t opening that door.
Holding my breath, I didn’t dare move.
The person outside knocked again. “Open up, Lucas. I know you’re in there. I can smell the garlic from out here, and I’m hungry as hell, so you’re gonna share. It’s been years since you cooked for me.” The doorknob jiggled. “Stop fucking around and let me in. We need to talk. Now.”
I tiptoed into the kitchen, grabbed the biggest butcher knife I could find, and backed myself into the corner. I didn’t open my mouth or make a noise, because I was hoping whoever was out there would go away. Give up and—
Metal rubbed up against metal, and the distinct sound of a key sliding into place made me stiffen. Shit, he had a key. I bolted for Lucas’s room at the same time the door opened, hoping to hide before I was sighted, but I was too slow to make it before I was seen. A muffled masculine curse came from somewhere behind me, and I ran faster, but not fast enough. Strong arms closed around me from behind, and I slashed at him with my knife, missing pathetically.
Screw being quiet. It was time to make some noise. “Let go of me! Help me!”
“Fucking—” He grunted and slapped a hand over my mouth with one hand, while yanking my wrist painfully to the side with the other. The sharp pain almost caused my fingers to let go, but I bit down on the attacker’s hand as hard as I could. He jerked away before I could do any real damage, shaking his hand off, then slammed it across my throat, cutting off my supply of oxygen. “Son of a bitch.”
I gasped in a breath. It was hard, because he was crushing me. “Get off me, or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” he growled in my ear, twisting my wrist even more and tightening his arm across my neck. “Who are you, and why are you in Lucas’s apartment? Tell me, as quickly as possible, or I’ll kill you.”
“Go to hell,” I gritted out between struggling breaths. It hurt more than I’d like to admit, or ever would admit. “As quickly as possible.”
“Have it your way, then,” he growled, yanking on my wrist even harder.
I lost the battle to hold on to my weapon. The knife hit the floor with a clang, and I followed it. He slammed me into the floor, trapping my hands behind my back and holding on with a death grip. My pulse skyrocketed, and I was sure that this was going to be it. The Bitter Hill gang had come to finish me off.
And this time Lucas wouldn’t be able to stop them.
Leaning down, he pressed his elbow into my upper back and said, “I repeat, who are you, and where is Lucas? What have you done to him?”
“N-nothing,” I stammered. “Get the hell off me.”
He yanked on my wrist even more, and I hissed through my teeth. He let up slightly. “Answer me.”
I rolled my head to the side so I could look at him out of the corner of my eye. An attractive man with dark brown hair and matching eyes had me pinned to the floor. He had a bit of a five-o’clock shadow going on, and from what I could see of them . . . his muscles were hard and defined under his brown leather jacket.
The same Steel Row jacket that Lucas wore.