“Excuses are not an option.”
I had the urge to burst out of the closet with the broom and smash the guy over the head. But I’d never been a fighter and I sure as hell couldn’t take on a guy like this. But no matter how senseless it would be to try to get a knife from a deadly man who obviously handled one like it was part of him, I was not going to stand here and do nothing if he went for my father.
I eyed my phone sitting beside the computer across the room. Even if I had it with me, he’d see the light on the screen the moment I pressed any buttons.
He lowered his knife to his side then slowly turned his head and his piercing green eyes locked on the closet. I quickly squeezed my eyes closed, afraid he’d see the whites of them blazing in the darkness. My muscles cramped as I tensed, fear seizing every nerve in my body.
Oh, God, don’t see me. Don’t see me.
I squinted to peek at him and was greeted by a mild twitch at the corner of his mouth as if… as if he knew I was here.
But he didn’t drag me out; instead, I heard a mild chuckle as he walked away.
I opened my eyes and inhaled quiet gasps of air. The quivering in my body was so bad that the broom pressing into my back vibrated. I quickly stepped away and my legs buckled. I placed my palm on the wall for support while I looked at the shelf across from me, searching for anything that I might be able to use as a weapon if I needed to.
Shelves of paper towels. Containers of hand soap. Bottles of disinfectants. Where were the hammers and nail guns when you needed them? Shit, I’d have to resort to using the broom if necessary and no doubt get myself laughed at, then killed.
I stepped a few inches forward to peer out the door and saw him leaning up against the counter where there were several computers. He crossed his ankles and arms, the knife gone or at least hidden from my line of sight. My gaze hit the purple leather bag right beside him.
My purse. Shit.
Okay, it could belong to anyone. Except my dad would know it was mine. Had he seen it? Did he know I was here?
“Kai, please. I need more time to come up with that much.”
Kai? I’d never heard my dad mention the name and I sure as hell never heard my dad’s voice tremble before. He was always quiet and steady, solid. My mother had been the unstable and flamboyant one from what I remembered of her. She’d died in a fire when I was fourteen years old and her vast amounts of wealth were left to my dad, which he used to start his own lab. But he was never the same after she died, becoming more and more reclusive and spending most of his time in the lab while a nanny raised me.
“They’re tired of waiting. You knew the deadline.”
“Please.” My father’s voice rose with panic. “I need two more months.”
“You’ve had years. Your time is up.”
What? My father had been working on something for this man for years? How many years? Why? What was he working on? It had to be a drug, but what kind of drug?
Kai reached inside his suit jacket and removed his knife. My heart raced and I wanted to look away, but couldn’t. With the tip of his blade, he put it under one of the straps of my purse and with a mild upward jerk, he cut the leather.
Oh, fuck.
He raised his chin and looked toward the closet, his brows rising with a slight grin. I heard my father sputtering on about testing, but the words were lost to the fear that skipped through me. My nails dug into the drywall as his gaze remained locked on the closet.
Striking was the word that came to mind when I looked at him. The second word was lethal. Intense, sculpted jaw and matching cheekbones—chiseled and flawless, just like his expensive suit.
There was an old world look to him that matched his confident expression. No, it was more than confident. It was fearless, as if he had nothing to lose, nothing could touch him. And even if I could by some miracle reach my phone and call the police, I suspected he’d merely laugh at the inconvenience of having to take his suit to the cleaners after killing anyone who tried to stop him.
But it was his eyes that captivated me, and wouldn’t let me go. A deep jade that held amusement mixed with a dangerous glint, which completely contradicted one another.
And just when I thought he’d walk over and drag me kicking and screaming from the closet, he put his knife away and directed his eyes back on my father who I couldn’t see. “You have one week.”