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ike earlier in the car. "You don't trust me," he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. I let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Should I?" I turned to face him, regretting it instantly. He was too close, his presence too overwhelming and consuming. "Let me go, Zane." My voice was softer this time, almost pleading. His gaze flicked to my lips before meeting my eyes again, and something inside me clenched. "I can't." Those two goddamn words that felt like chains tightening around my ribs. I exhaled sharply, pushing at his chest, but he didn't move. Not even an inch. "Move," I said through gritted teeth. He didn't. "Zane" His hands shot out, gripping my wrists, pinning them against the cool glass behind me. I sucked in a sharp breath. I should have been furious and slapped him, kneed him, or done something from my self-defense class other than stand there, heart hammering against my ribs as his grip tightened firm, but not painful. His head dipped slightly, his breath fanning across my cheek. "You don't want me to move. We already established that." A shiver raced down my spine, but I forced myself to meet his gaze, to pretend that he didn't affect me. "You think you know what I want?" A faint smirk touched his lips. "I think you hate that I do." He was right. "Let. Me. Go." I enunciated each word, hoping he couldn't hear the tremor in my voice. His jaw tightened, something flashing behind those ice-blue eyes, something I didn't understand. Then, just as suddenly as he'd grabbed me, he let go. I exhaled sharply, dragging in a breath as I stepped away from him, my back pressing against the glass. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his control barely tethered. "You're staying here. End of discussion." I lifted my chin, forcing steel into my voice. "You don't own me." The corner of his mouth lifted in something that wasn't quite a smirk. "No. But right now, I'm the only thing standing between you and whoever the hell wants you dead." A chill settled over me, knowing he was right, and that terrified me more than anything. **** I pulled the soft and oversized shirt tighter around my body and sank against the pillows. Sleep. That's all I wanted. But my mind wouldn't shut off. It wasn't the raging storm muffled by the thick walls of the building that was keeping me awake, but Zane Calloway and the way his kiss had made my blood pressure spike. I touched a finger to my lips, which were still swollen from his suckings, reliving the moment in the car. If only the car behind us hadn't ruined the moment. I blew out a warm breath and rolled onto my side, staring at the sleekly designed interiors of the expensively decorated guest room hoping to distract myself from imagining what he would have done to me if we hadn't stopped. The faint scent of leather and spice still clung to the air, a reminder of the man who owned this place and the fact that I was trapped here under his rules. Because apparently, keeping me alive also meant controlling every single move I made. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen lit up with the caller's picture and my heart squeezed in my chest. Belinda. I grabbed the phone and swiped the call. "Hey, Belinda." My voice