My head rests against the car door and I struggle to keep my heavy eyelids from drifting shut. My mind was so fraught with anxiety last night; I tossed and turned much more than I slept.

What a horrible, no-good day.

Feeling myself drift off, I jerk. In an attempt to stay awake, I shift my weight, trying to invigorate myself. I only have to stay up long enough to get on the plane, then I can sleep through the flight. When I wake up, it will be like this whole awful day was little more than a dream.

My head is convinced this is a good plan, but my body struggles to keep up its end of the deal. Maybe I can close my eyes for just a minute. I lean my head on the door again and close my eyes, thinking to rest them so they aren’t dry as the desert anymore.

I feel myself falling and jolt awake, rearing back from the arm that kept me from tumbling right out of the car. Bleary-eyed and momentarily discombobulated, I look up at the ominous-looking man holding the car door open for me.

“Are we here?” I murmur, looking around for my purse before finding it on my lap. Clutching it, I push my legs out and reach for the door frame to pull myself out of the car. I sway, still bleary from sleep, and Sin places a steadying hand around my waist, pulling me away from the car so he can shut the door.

I frown, looking past Sin at the brown roll-down door in front of the parked car. Wait, this isn’t the airport. It’s a driveway. The car is parked in front a residential garage. I turn to look past the car, and sure enough, there’s a small yard in front of a tan stucco home. Orange tile lines the roof and a gated brick wall creeps around the house like a fence.

“This is not the airport,” I state, needlessly.

“Guess he wasn’t lying about you being smart,” Sin says, dryly.

He attempts to usher me toward the house, but I dig my heels in and pull back. “This is a house. You were supposed to take me to the airport.”

“It’s my house,” he says, easily. “We’ll get to the airport; I needed to stop home first.” Glancing toward the road, he says, “It’s safer if you come inside with me. Didn’t want to leave you asleep in the car and chance something happening to you.”

Safer? I don’t know anything about Vegas, or the neighborhood we’re even in, so I suppose it makes sense to take his word for it. There’s no reason Sin would want to hurt me, right? Rafe flashed me a flight confirmation screen on his phone, so I know he was actually booking a plane ticket. It wasn’t some kind of gangster code for “kill this pregnant bitch.”

“What do you have to grab?” I ask, still wary as he keeps a hold on me, guiding me past the car and around to a sidewalk leading to the entrance of the house. There are two brown double doors on the front of the house. I see Sin reach into his pocket, but there’s no jingle. He pulls out a single key. He doesn’t keep his house key and his car key together? Distracted by the oddness, I ask, “Why don’t you have a key chain?”

Glancing at me like I’m wearing him out, Sin asks, “Do you ever stop asking questions?”

I shrug. “You have at least two keys. A key chain would make your life easier, that’s all I’m saying.”

“If a key chain would make my life easier, I would have a key chain, now, wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you enjoy making your life harder. Have you ever lost your key? I bet it’s easy to lose when it’s not attached to anything.”

“Key chains jingle,” he states, clearly tired of hearing about this. “I can’t stand the jingle.” Sliding me a pointed look, he adds, “I like quiet.”

I draw an invisible zipper across my lips, then I turn an invisible key for good measure. Then I can’t help holding out the invisible key and breaking my silence. “See, if you had a key chain, you could put this on it. It wouldn’t even make any noise.”

Sin shakes his head at me, pushing his real key into the lock and turning it. Since it’s so late, the front door opens up into a predictably dark room. Sin moves me aside and steps past me to turn the light on. I flinch at the sudden brightness, looking to him to see what he does now.

He shuts the door and walks up a few carpeted steps into what must be the living room. I follow behind him, looking around as I go. Sin gestures off to his left as he makes it into the living room. “Have a seat, I’ll be a minute.”

I walk over and take a seat on the edge of his olive green couch, looking around the room. There’s a flat-screen television mounted to the wall across from me and a whole lot of empty space everywhere else. For a home, this place is sparse.

“Not so big on furniture, huh?” I call after him.

He sighs heavily, like I’m a real headache. “I have all the furniture I need.”

“You don’t have a coffee table,” I point out.

“I don’t like coffee.”

I draw my phone out of my purse to check the time and find my battery is nearly dead. Of course I didn’t think to bring my charger with me. Maybe he has the same phone and I could use his. “Hey, do you have a car charger? I really need to juice this thing up. What model of phone do you have?”

Sin comes back in the living room muttering under his breath. “Why aren’t we at the airport? Why don’t you have a key chain? Why don’t you have a coffee table? What kind of phone do you have?” He stops and stares at me. “Just stop talking.”

I side-eye him. “Has anyone ever told you you’re not a very nice person?”

“Never,” he says, flatly. “I’m usually the belle of the ball.”

I crack a smile, trying to picture this grim man at a ball. Glancing down at my phone again, I light it up to check the time. “What time is my flight?”

He throws his hands in the air like he can’t believe I just asked another fucking question. I bite back a smile as he turns and storms up the stairs. Even though he told me to stay put, I’m tempted to follow him. I’m curious by nature, and now here I am stuck in a new place with a new person—I want to know things. I want to explore the house and see if the other rooms are as bare as the living room.

Eventually, he comes back, and he must be done because now he comes straight to the living room and stops in front of me.

“Are we ready to go?” I ask.

“Why don’t you stay in Vegas tonight?” he suggests. “I’ll drive you to a hotel and get you a room for the night. You can get some sleep, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow when clearer heads can prevail.”

I frown up at him, completely thrown by his suggestion. “What? No. Why would I stay in Vegas?”

His gaze drops to my stomach, like all of a sudden it will protrude. “You said you’re carrying Rafe’s kid.”

I visibly droop. “Yeah, well, he made his feelings about that pretty clear.”

“You took him off guard. He was upset. I want to wait and see how he feels tomorrow before we take any kind of action.”

“Yeah, well, this is officially no longer your concern,” I tell him, pushing my purse strap up on my shoulder and standing. “I only came here in the first place because Vince said some stuff and I’m an idiot. I should have known Rafe wouldn’t care.”

That seems to snag his attention. “Vince knows?”

I shake my head, looking down at the ground instead of at him. “No, Vince doesn’t know. Nobody knows.”

“So, what happens if you go home tonight?”

“I do my best to put this whole trip out of my mind and never step foot in this god-awful city again,” I state.

“I meant with the pregnancy.”

That darkens my mood and I sigh again. “I don’t want to talk about this. We need to get going so I don’t miss my flight.”

“You’re planning to end the pregnancy,” he says, rather than asking.

I don’t much appreciate the deeply judgmental vibe I’m getting off him. “I am a 19-year-old without a job or a degree. The father of my child is the head of some Las Vegas crime syndicate; he wants nothing to do with me and doesn’t even believe he’s the one who got me pregnant. If my protective, hot-headed brother-in-law finds out his cousin impregnated and abandoned me, it could potentially cause devastating ripples within this family that I don’t even want to think about. Also, I have less than $50 to my name.”

“Your brother-in-law just inherited millions,” Sin states, like I’m full of shit. “You telling me he wouldn’t give you some money?”

“I’m not his responsibility. My sister has been sacrificing to take care of me literally her whole entire life. I’m finally coming into my own now. Maybe you don’t understand that, but I don’t want her to have to keep taking care of me. I want to amount to something. I want to be someone she can be proud of. Not even 20 and knocked up by a Morelli of all fucking people? Not something she’s going to be proud of.”

“So, it’s not the money. You don’t want a kid at all.”

“I want kids,” I say, defensively. “Probably not a mobbed up manwhore’s kids, but, you know, someone’s kids. Someday.”

“That’s a dumb reason,” he states.

I shoot him a dirty look. “Well, I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“I’m giving it to you anyway.”

“I see that,” I mutter, trying to step past him to head back to the stairs. “Can we just go, please? I don’t need you to approve of my life choices.”

Instead of moving out of my way, he moves into it. “Give me the night. Let me take you to a hotel and put you up—”

“I said no,” I reply, glaring up at him.

“Why?”

“Because this has been one of the worst nights of my life and I want to go home. I don’t want to spend another night here. I don’t want to see Rafe tomorrow. I’m done with all this.”

“I’m going to ask one last time,” he says.

“Please don’t. I’ll just say no again.”

He shakes his head, annoyed. “Fine. Do you need to pee before we leave?”

I frown, but just the mention of it reminds me I sort of do need to pee. I don’t know how far we are from the airport, but it’s probably better to go here than in public anyway. “I guess so. Where’s your bathroom?”

Sin takes a step back and nods up another set of carpeted stairs. “Up there. I’ll show you.”

I head up the stairs, but I’m acutely aware of him right behind me. The bathroom door is cracked open at the top of the stairs, moonlight spilling in on the shower curtain. I don’t know why he’s still following me when I can clearly see where I’m going. A wave of unease moves through me like earlier, but again I tell myself there’s no reason this man should want to hurt me.

“I think I can handle it from here,” I tell him, when we get to the top landing.

He nods and sinks back against the wall. I expected him to give me some privacy, but he’s clearly going to stand here and wait for me right outside the door. I watch him for a moment, tempted to ask why, but I know he won’t answer me anyway. I’ll just go pee so we can leave; the sooner I get out of here, the better.

Shutting myself inside, I hurry up and pee, then wash my hands. As I’m drying them on a soft hand towel, I look over at the shower. It’s fairly standard, but there’s a metal bar affixed to the wall. That’s a bit odd.

I pull open the door and flip off the light. Sin appears in front of me, startling the hell out of me. I jump and grasp my chest, even though I knew he was standing out there.

“Jesus, you are one stealthy motherfucker.”

He cracks a smile. “Yeah, I am.”

Clearing my throat, I cast a hopeful glance past him at the stairs leading downstairs—to my path out of this house. “Ready to go?”

His hand closes firmly around my bicep and he says, “One more stop before we leave.”

“For what?” I ask, not moving.

“Phone charger,” he says, indicating my purse with his finger.

Oh, yeah. I did tell him I needed to charge my phone. Jesus, everything he does feels so scary. I need to cool it. The man is just grabbing a charger I specifically asked him for.

Now I let him lead me down the dark hallway. It feels ominous with only the moonlight spilling in through cracked-open doors and large, barred windows. Wait, why are his windows barred? There’s glass beyond the bars, but that’s fucking creepy. He did say I should come inside because it wasn’t safe to wait in the car, but does he really live in such a dicey neighborhood that he needs barred windows?

I have half a mind to halt and tell him never mind, I’ll just let my phone die. Better my phone than me, and he lives in a house with barred windows, so I’m beginning to worry about those odds.

Before I get the chance, Sin pushes me through the door and inside a dark room. This time, he doesn’t turn the light on. He doesn’t let go of my arm once we’re inside, either. Instead, he drags me over to his unmade bed and pushes down on my shoulder until I take a seat on the edge of the mattress.

I swallow, my heart thumping irregularly as he bends to reach into the nightstand. He pulls open the drawer where he must keep his spare charger, but he still has a hand on my wrist; it’s beginning to make me uncomfortable.

I try to pull out of his grip and his fingers curl more tightly around my wrist.

Breathe, Laurel. Everything is completely fine. Don’t make it weird.

“Do you live here alone?” I ask.

His dark eyes look somehow more threatening with him shadowed in darkness like this. “Sure do.”

“That’s cool.” It’s an inane remark, but it’s all I can do to sit still right now. My nerves are starting to tear at me, urging me to insist he release my wrist. “Can I have my hand back?” I ask instead, since it seems a bit less accusing.

“What do you need it for?”

I open my mouth, drawing a blank. “It’s… my hand. I need it for everything.”

He turns back to me, holding something black and somewhat puffy in his hand. What the hell is that? He spreads it open with one hand and it looks almost like an open bracelet. An open leather cuff?

He slaps the cuff around my wrist. I’m dumbstruck, but I think just clearly enough to jerk my hand away and scoot down the bed. “What are you doing?” This time, he doesn’t answer me. His fingers close around my lower arm in a vice grip and he fixes the padded cuff around my wrist. “Sin,” I say, trying to get my wrist away from him. “What the fuck—?”

The cuff clicks. He pulls on it to make sure it’s secure. My heart beats wildly and even though he won’t answer me now, even though I don’t know what he’s doing, I accept that it must be bad. He drops my cuffed wrist and grabs the other one, opening a second restraint.

I don’t know what else to do, so I roll back on the bed, bringing my knees up, and use my feet to shove against his chest and get him away from me.

“Want me to cuff your ankles, too?” he asks, shoving my legs to the side and climbing on top of me.

“Oh, my god,” I cry out, shoving at him. “Oh, my god, what are you doing? What are you doing?”

The cuffs aren’t attached to anything yet, so I know if I can just get him off me, I can run. I hit him in the chest with my cuffed hand, but he ignores me, like I’m not even a minor nuisance. I can’t breathe, and even though he’s on top of me, it’s not because of his weight. It’s because I’m realizing how utterly at his mercy I am. Here I am, fighting with all my strength, and I’m still pinned beneath a strange man, not knowing what he intends to do to me.

For all the harm he could intend, he doesn’t seem to be escalating things. He’s not fumbling with my clothing or his; he’s focused on getting the second cuff closed around my wrist. Once he verifies the security of that one, he reaches along the side of the bed and yanks up a bar on the side of the bed. I stare, horrified, as he loops a thick chain around it, then attaches the chain to my cuffs, even as I struggle with every ounce of strength in my body.

Dread crawls up my spine. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Sin takes a step back and looks me over. I’m stuck on my side now, locked to this rail on the side of the bed. I pull on the cuffs. The chain rattles, but I’m no closer to freedom.

“Help!” I scream. “Somebody help me!”

“You’ll only make yourself hoarse,” he advises. “No one can hear you. I don’t have neighbors.”

“Why?” I demand, at a complete loss. “What the hell?”

Sin shrugs, like this is all completely my fault. “I offered to put you up in a hotel. You declined. Here we are.”

“This is kidnapping,” I inform him, trying to glare him to death.

He appears to be unconcerned. “I’m gonna take a shower. You can scream for help and make your wrists sore trying to get free, or you can just settle down and go to sleep. I know you’re tired. It’s really your call; I couldn’t care less either way.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” I demand.

“I told you. I need you to stay in town another night. I tried to do things the nice way, but you didn’t want to cooperate.”

“I’ll cooperate now. Please… please don’t do this. Please let me go. We can pretend this never happened. Just unlock these cuffs and let me out of here. You don’t even have to give me a ride to the airport, I’ll call a car. I’ll go home. Nobody in this town ever has to see me again. It’ll be like I was never even here, I promise.”

Shaking his head like he’s disappointed, he says, “That’s not even a good offer. I said I want you to stay in town another night. You want to promise your cooperation, you tell me you’ll take the hotel room, you’ll stay in town, you’ll give me the extra day I asked for.”

I offer a vigorous nod. “Fine, yes, I’ll do that.”

“Too late,” he says, lazily unbuckling his belt and drawing it off.

My heart does somersaults in my chest and I stare at the leather strap, wide-eyed. Here I am chained to his bed, and he’s watching me while he takes his belt off.

I can’t breathe. I suck a breath in and he watches me struggle, but instead of looking remotely sympathetic, amusement glistens in his dark eyes.

This amuses him? What kind of sick bastard am I dealing with here?

I want to rage at him. I want to tell him he’s horrible. I want to choke him to death with that Twix bar I gave him.

Instead, I watch him hang up the belt and meander out of the bedroom like this is part of our nightly routine.

“Sin,” I call after him. “Come back. Please!”

Not for the first time tonight, Sin ignores me.