Silence again.

Borden looked like he was deliberating, shooting a quick glance at the weapon every few moments.

“Do you make a habit out of using this blade, Miss Warne?”

“It’s for protection,” I simply responded, my body breaking out in sweat at how hard he was looking at me.

“Do you put yourself in danger often?”

“No.”

“Then what were you doing out there on your own in an alleyway this late at night?”

Strange how simple questions you would have easily answered before become hard and impossible to clearly put into words when fear took you. I stuttered, blinking several times, trying to put together a line before Hawke cursed loudly. “Fuck this, she’s going to lie, Borden,” he said. “She can’t put two words together–”

“I wanted some fresh air.” I interrupted him. “It’s very cloudy in the club and I’m not use to being in crowded places… I wanted some fresh air. That’s all. I didn’t see or do anything–”

“She’s lying,” Hawke cut in sharply.

“I’m not lying!” I didn’t mean to raise my voice but this Hawke guy was really aggravating me. It was like hate at first sight with this douche, and he glared at me like I was a fly that needed to be squashed/burned/mutilated.

Borden’s mouth formed a frown at my outburst. Fuck. He shut the briefcase loudly and set each palm face down on the table, leaning forward just a little to study me.

Staring at his face was difficult, but I felt like I had no other choice. He was willing me to with those hypnotic eyes; there was no way I could escape them. Then he glanced over my shoulder, and just the simple action prompted Hawke to shove me closer to Borden, until my legs were touching the steel table, and I was merely feet from him.

Closer to him than ever before, my eyes danced around his face. I could feel every part of me tense, bewildered for a moment at the stark beauty the man embodied, and then caught up in a wave of trepidation when I remembered who I was really staring at.

A bad man.

A dangerous man.

Regardless of the way he looked, he was cold and wicked, and I was just a lamb brought for slaughter.

“You’re holding yourself quite well, Miss Warne,” he remarked, going over every inch of my face and body as if it answered something to him. “You haven’t been drinking.”

Still tense, I shook my head. “No.”

“Odd for someone to come to my club and avoid a drink.”

“I don’t drink.”

“What a load of shit,” Hawke said under his breath.

“I don’t drink,” I repeated quickly before they all started to doubt me. “I-I haven’t for years.”

“She’s lying through her teeth,” the redhead pitched in loudly. “Look at her. She’s stuttering and shaking –”

“If I wanted your input, I would have asked for it.” Borden’s voice hadn’t changed but his face flashed with anger as he looked over at her. Shit, that look was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. She instantly went quiet and crept back. Any bit of confidence she had before completely drained away, which was sort of alright in my books after she’d smiled like a bitch at me just minutes ago.

It seemed nobody felt safe around this man, no matter who they were.

“How long have you been here?” he then asked, turning back to look at me.

“Two hours maybe,” I answered hesitantly.

“Did you come with a man?”

“No.”

“Who did you come with?”

“A friend of mine.”

“Is your friend still here?”

“Yes.”

Curtly, he said, “I recommend next time you come out this late at night and hang around alleyways, Miss Warne, that you come with a man on your arm. Being alone like this makes you vulnerable and easily taken advantage of. The last thing I need is a trail leading to my club because you were dumb enough to get into some trouble with a measly switchblade you wouldn’t have found time to dig out between your breasts for protection.”

I was beyond red. “I told you I was with a friend.”

“And you also just told me your friend doesn’t have a pair of swinging balls, isn’t that right?”

“Well, yes, but –”

“Point made. Don’t fucking do it again, in or around any of my establishments.”

I shut my mouth, fighting the urge to tell him I was a grown woman and I could do whatever the hell I wanted to, but, yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not when I was standing in the middle of a dragon’s den, ready to be devoured if I so much as blinked the wrong way.

“And next time,” he added, a small smirk accompanying his lips, “try avoiding alleyways for a place to take a breather. That’s simple street logic.”

I bit my bottom lip, holding back the curse words itching to come out. I was pretty sure it was the fear stopping them from taking over.

“So where are you headed to now?” he harshly asked.

“To my friend?” I had no idea if that was the answer he wanted.

“Wrong. You’re going home. Isn’t that right?” His face darkened as he regarded me.

Heat rose to my cheeks. I nodded quickly.

He eyed my bare arms. “Have you no coat, Miss Warne?”

“I do… I don’t know…I don’t…” I began stammering, looking down at my black dress and bare arms, wondering where the hell I put it before I remembered I never even brought it.

For several moments he watched me flounder before turning to the asshole beside me. “Hawke,” he said irritably, “Miss Warne is a little confused. Perhaps we didn’t account for her slow mind. Take her to her house before she continues talking shit.” His grim gaze landed back on me. “I don’t want to see you at my club ever again. Do you hear?”

I nodded again.

“Good. Get the fuck out.”

Hawke steered me roughly out of the room. My head was spinning and I could hardly keep my legs up. My knees buckled, but Hawke kept me upright. Even though we were heading away from the danger, I knew I was having a panic attack. My vision was blurry and spotty. I stared at my feet moving unevenly on the ground. I was practically being dragged by this man. I heard loud voices and music in the background before cold autumn air hit my body. Before I could process anything, I was in the back of a moving car.