Alexis

 

The strange man had held my hand so tightly that my fingertips were numb by the time we finally stopped running. Once we had escaped from the carnage in the mansion he had led me through side streets and narrow alleys until he reached a black sports car parked in the shadow of an old warehouse, and we had sped off into the night.

 

I had no idea where we were now, but I could only guess it was the man’s apartment. It was a nice place, much better than the little slum where I lived. The stark white walls were a contrast to the deep mahogany furniture. Recessed lights made for a museum-like atmosphere, compounded by small statues and vases that looked expensive.

 

The man had bundled me into the place and slammed the door. He had never put his gun away, letting go of me only long enough to reload before we left the big house. He had even held it as he drove. Now, he kept it out and at his side as he paced.

 

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked. I knew I never should have come with him. As I had watched him eliminate all those men, there was no doubt that things could only end badly. He had killed them with a cold efficiency I had only seen in the movies. He was a murdering machine. But he was right about one thing: I had seen too much. If I hadn’t followed him, then someone else would have come along to kill me.

 

He stopped pacing only long enough to glance at me. His eyes were such a deep brown; only his hair was darker. He might have been a handsome man if he hadn’t just murdered a room full of people and kidnapped me. “Nothing, right now.”

 

There was something threatening in his voice, and my stomach churned. “Then could you loosen these bindings a little? They hurt.” I squirmed in the wooden chair he had tied me to. The rope was rough against my wrists and ankles.

 

He shook his head, but didn’t look at me. “No.”

 

“I won’t try to get away. I promise. I’m too tired.” It was the truth. If I thought I could get past him, then I probably would have tried. But I had seen how good he was with that gun. I’d be dead in a split second if I tried anything, and I truly didn’t have the energy to do so. I was content to rest for a moment while this guy figured out what his problem was and I waited for the right moment to escape. I shivered, even though it wasn’t cold.

 

He gave a snort of a laugh. “Right.”

 

“Or you could just let me go,” I suggested. “I won’t tell anybody anything. You can blindfold me and drop me off in a parking lot somewhere, so there’s no chance I can even tell the cops where you live.” It seemed reasonable enough to me, and the guy hadn’t seemed all that happy about taking me with him in the first place.

 

“No! Now quit talking!” He stalked to the window and twitched the curtain aside, gazing out over the city for a moment before returning to his pacing.

 

For some reason, this offended me. Perhaps it was because I was used to men being putty in my hands, sometimes literally. “Hey, now. You’re the one who brought me here.”

 

“And maybe I shouldn’t have,” he retorted. He brought the gun up and pressed the tip of it to my temple. “I could have just killed you. Would you prefer that?”

 

I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut. I had pushed things too far. “No,” I squeaked.

 

He pressed his lips together in frustration and dropped the weapon. “That’s what I thought. What’s your name?”

 

I don’t know why I didn’t give him one of my stage names. I had used several of them, depending on what club I was working at or what routine I was doing. The customers rarely remembered them anyway, but it had seemed better than using my real name. Still, my words gave him the real answer before I had a chance to say otherwise. “Alexis.”

 

“Alexis what?” he demanded.

 

“Reid.” Even when I gave lap dances and some drunk with sour breath wanted to know my name so he could whisper it as he jacked off later that night, he never asked for my last name. It caught me off guard.

 

I shifted again in my seat. My back was getting sore, and through the crack in the curtains, I could see that the sun was beginning to rise. It had been a long night. I had nearly been done with my routine when this crazy man came in and changed everything. I had imagined that this gig might have been the one to change my life around. Sure, I was still dancing for a living, but it could have led to something more. Maybe one of those men would decide they needed a girlfriend to spoil, and I would have the chance to get a real job. It sure wouldn’t happen now that they were all cold and dead. “What’s your name?” I blurted out. I deserved to know who this man was who had ruined my big chance.

 

He eyed me again, and my heart skipped a little. How could such a good-looking man be such a brute? He hesitated, as though uncertain about the answer. “Lorenzo,” he finally said, running his hands through his trimmed beard.

 

It was a sexy name, but I couldn’t tell him that. He still terrified me. Just because he had hesitated to shoot me before didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of doing it at some point. I wondered what the headlines would be like when my body was found in some alley with my glitzy heels and trashy dress.

 

Suddenly, I realized that only one thing made sense. He might still intend to kill me, but there was a reason he hadn’t. It was the only reason that anyone had ever wanted to keep me around, including my ex-boyfriend, Dino. He had whispered plenty of nice things in my ear, but the only thing he had ever truly wanted was my body. Why should Lorenzo be any different? “I’ll do whatever you want. You can have your way with me. I won’t fight you. And then you can let me go.” My voice quivered on the last sentence. I knew most men thought of me as a slut, but I really wasn’t. I didn’t want to sleep with some hitman, but I had to do something. I couldn’t sit here bound to this chair forever.

 

Lorenzo stood still for a moment. He stared at me, but he kept his eyes on my face. His gaze was so intense that I thought it might burn straight through me. At any moment, he would leap forward, untie the rope, and drag me to the bedroom by my hair.

 

“No,” he said instead. I was beginning to think it was the only word he really knew how to use. He continued pacing as the sun came up, sending a bright streak of light across the floor.