He places a hand near the side of my head, slowly resting it on the car’s metal, and grabs my chin with his free one. My pulse roars in my ears as he cages me in.
There’s no escaping him, even if I try.
Not that I will.
I’m trapped by his sheer presence and held prisoner by the darkened depths of his grey eyes.
It’s like being caught in the eye of a hurricane and all I can do is fall.
Drown.
Down…
Eventually disappear.
That’s what people like Jonathan do. If they wish, they can make you vanish as if you’ve never existed.
The feel of his skin on mine is like being burned from the inside out. No one is supposed to ooze so much control as he does.
It should be forbid
den. Illegal.
“This is my first and final warning. Do not keep in contact with Ethan. Understood?”
I want to say no, to shout it, but it’s like my tongue is knotted in itself. I’m too caught up in his close proximity, in his lethal presence and the intimidation he plays so well.
I’m not the type to be intimidated, but this is Jonathan.
He’s in a special category all on his own.
He takes my silence for approval and releases my chin. Instead of leaving my space, he rummages through my bag and yanks out the card I accepted from Ethan.
Before I can stop him, he rips it in four and throws it behind him. The torn pieces fly in the wind.
Then he reaches into his jacket, retrieves his own card, and slips it in on behalf of Ethan’s. “This is the only contact information you need. Call me, apologise for skipping me over, and depending on my mood, I might consider helping you.”
Damn him. Who does the bastard think he is?
He steps back, all physical contact gone, and I finally breathe properly – or try to anyway. I don’t think it’s normal to remind myself to inhale and exhale on a regular basis. But if I don’t, I might stop my oxygen intake altogether.
His eyes roam over me one more time with a suffocating intensity that robs me of breath all over again. I resist the urge to fidget as his gaze pauses at my face. “And then you’ll tell me where you’ve been.”
And with that, he turns and leaves.
I sag against my car, sucking air into my lungs as if I’ve just learnt how to breathe. The act is there, but the weight slamming into me makes it almost impossible to gather my bearings. It’s the first time in ages that I’ve felt so trapped and with no way out.
Didn’t I promise myself I would never be in this position again?
You know what?
Fuck Jonathan King.
No one tells me what to do.
5
Jonathan