I could make everyone think it was a bat or a mouse. That might start a stampede for the door. But what if someone got hurt in that stampede? This place was too busy now for me to cause any sort of mayhem without endangering someone.
The second Knox pulled me into his arms, my brain short-circuited. He held me close. I couldn't lean back far enough to get my hands together between our bodies, and he was too muscular for me to clasp my hands together behind his body. At least, around the shoulders he was, and that was where he kept my arms, like two high schoolers, swaying at the first dance.
Except the gentle rocking motion Knox established didn't match the music in the slightest. He didn't seem all that concerned by that fact. He made the world how he wanted it and would likely invite anyone who had an issue with that to fuck off. "If you weren't running, you could go to school. Isn't there something you want to do with your life?"
If he thought he would somehow convince me that going back was the right choice, he should save his breath. "I won't go back," I said as firmly and clearly as possible.
His brow furrowed like this was unexpected news.
I leaned in, nose to nose. "I'll kill myself before I go back there."
Knox snarled loudly, jerking me closer. His hardness prodded my lower stomach, and I gasped.
Delicious tendrils of anticipation burst from the spot, lighting the rest of my body on fire.
"Why?" he seethed. "What does he do? Does he beat you?"
Did he sound like he hoped I would say yes? No, that was insane. I was only grasping at straws.
"No. He doesn't beat me." I lifted my chin. I wouldn't let this man or any other doubt the truth I knew in my heart.
"Then what, Jazz? Tell me why you won't. Give me a reason." His tone sounded pleading, but this man didn't plead.
I knew my answer wouldn't make sense to him. It never did to anyone. "The second I get home, he'll lock me up in a beautiful room with a television, computers, a gaming system, movies… Staff will bring my food—but they'll be the only people I ever see. I won't see my father again. He doesn't want me. And I don't mean we've grown apart. He's never wanted me. I'm just something to hide to him." I shook my head so hard my curls smacked my face. "I won't go back there. I won't go where I'm not wanted." I waited for him to say something mean, to tease me for not enjoying the type of life others might long for—kept like a cat no longer wanted.
I couldn't be locked up, though. Not in that house. Not with him. I didn't know how to explain it any better.
Knox pressed his forehead against mine and inhaled slowly. On his exhale, I found myself copying him. "You don't want to be caged," he whispered. "You've got too much fire to live within the same four walls."
What. The. Fuck.
No one had ever responded like that—understood exactly what I was trying to say. Most people, if this subject was broached at all, just looked at me like I was some rich snob.
Our feet had stopped moving a while ago. Knox gave up all pretense of dancing and held me close. I blinked rapidly, staring at his rugged face like it was the first time. This man was a living contradiction. Hard but soft. Gentle and rough. Mercenary… "Who are you?"
His steel-gray eyes burned with desire, and my heart did a cartwheel of joy. Until now, I couldn't be sure how much of his response was because of me and how much of it was because I was a body pressing against him. "I'm the man who's going to kiss you."
Then he did.
Holy jalapenos—he did. I didn't know a kiss could make a person feel this way. He wasn't just pressing his mouth against my mouth. His kiss sunk into my soul. I felt him all over, my skin coming alive, singing for more of his touch. His lips vibrated with the growl sounding low in his chest. The noise was inhuman but no less sexy because of it. He made the small hairs on my neck stand straight up, but not in fear. Every part of me strained for more of Knox's caress.
When he leaned back, I expected the spell to be broken, but he peered down at me with gentle eyes. "I like your hair." His whisper danced over my cheek.
I did it for you.
There, I said it. Maybe not out loud, but I admitted to it in my mind, and that felt just as dangerous. He will leave you the second he has his money. His earlier protests ignored, my brain was brutal now, desperate to get through to me.
"Okay, everyone, it's the time you've all been waiting for! Crowd in, fight your neighbor for the best seat in the house, and prepare to have your balls blown off!" Dressed in a floor-length, red sequin gown, the queen at the mic thrust her hands out on either side of her in a sweeping display of jazz hands.
The people inside surged forward, crowding the spot where we'd been dancing.
Knox scowled, but not even he could quell the excitement of drag queens giving it their all on the stage. It was like watching a herd of antelope surround a lion, while paying it no attention at all.
Bodies bumped into us, and I took advantage of the hustle, slipping my hand into the loosest pocket. I snagged a leather wallet as Knox spoke over the heads of those around us. "Grab my hand, Jazz. I'll lead us out. Don't be stupid."
Stupid? Stupid was listening to a single thing this man said. Stupid was mistaking how horny he made me with proof that I could trust him. I'd already been stupid. Now I was being smart. I nodded, pressing the wallet between my hands before sliding it into Knox's waiting palm.
He squeezed his fingers around the wallet, feeling my four fingers, my thumb. I even added a little illusion of weight so it felt like I tugged at him. Unlike sight, smell, and sound, conjuring weight and movement never lasted longer than a few moments. It was long enough. Knox stepped in one direction, leading my wallet hand, and I took off in the other.
The trick lasted for seconds before Knox figured me out, but by then, I was already several feet away from him, winding through a crowd the way only a man my size could. Knox was a boulder, manually forcing the flow of people to divert around him. But I was a pebble, and I slipped outside before Knox was halfway to me. I heard him yell something, but I wasn't going to ask him to repeat it. I turned and ran down the city street in the direction of my hotel. I believed Knox when he said he wouldn't stop chasing me, which meant I needed to run now.
Had Knox figured out where I was staying? Portland was home to several hotel chains owned by my father, but there were still only so many. Even if he knew, I'd get there before him. I'd grab what I could and run out the fire escape if I had to.
So deep in my plan of escape, I didn't notice the street I'd used to get to the bar had since cleared out. Before, there had been lots of other people walking around, working in the office buildings on either side. Now, it was just me.
I kept running. If Knox didn't get me, then I had no need to fear anything on this street. At about a block from my hotel, my foot snagged over something on the sidewalk, and I fell forward, slamming my chin into the pavement before I rolled to a stop.
I groaned, relatively certain I hadn't broken anything but needing to stretch my limbs out slowly just in case.
"Get up," a harsh voice demanded.
That wasn't Knox. It wasn't any voice I'd heard…and yet…
"Get on your fucking feet," the man snarled.