Hunted and Held

The Offer Avery's POV "I am not asking Avery here. I am informing you here. You are with me right now. From behind me, the voice came low, solid, and shockingly forceful. Mid-step I stopped, my heart missing a beat. Though the tension in the atmosphere was considerably colder, the cold of the night air bit at my flesh. Turning slowly and almost daring to breathe, my heels clicked against the ground. He was Cole Westbrook, the man who turned billionaires into little change. His dark suit hugged his broad shoulders, sharp jaw knotted in that trademark, inaccessible frown loomed in the faint streetlight. His sharp blue eyes locked with mine, relentless, slicing over me like a razor. "I don't need your protection," I yelled back, my voice shaking more than I would want to confess. I did not expect him to show up here. Actually, I had not expected him at all—after all that had transpired, I felt I had at last released him. He stepped nearer, reducing the distance between us with steady eyes. "You have no options anymore." The words struck me like a blow to the gut, and my pulse quickened and I automatically backed off. "You don't understand," I said, looking aside to try to avoid the intensity in his eyes. The evening seemed too near, too dark, and the air too heavy with spoken conflict. His voice lower now but still just as forceful, he replied, "I understand more than you think." "And I won't let you stroll away from this." My chest stiffened me. The last several days had been a haze of anxiety and mistrust. I should have known he would be here following the attack and threat. I ought to have realized he would find me. This, though, was different. This went beyond simple safety now. His eyes softened just a little, and I sensed the most faint vulnerability under that cold front. Though I wasn't sure if it was sincere worry or something deeper, it set my heart pounding. Once more I opened my lips to object, but the words died on my tongue. I am unable to do this. I couldn't go back to him—couldn't yield to whatever it was that drew me toward him. Though my body was betraying me, he was the last person I needed in my life right now. He said, "You think I'm here for you, don't you?" moving even closer. but you're mistaken. I tried to ground myself by swallowing hard. " What do you want, Cole?" He did not respond right away. His eyes flicked with something incomprehensible, then he went into his jacket pocket and retrieved a sleek, black envelope. Though I knew its contents, its weight was symbolic. He turned it over to me silently. I didn't want to accept it. From him, nothing appealed to me. My fingers betrayed me, though, reaching out and grabbing the package as though it had magnetic attraction. "Open it," he urged. I stopped. Though I could not ignore the little voice within that encouraged me to find out what it was, part of me wanted to rip the envelope apart and toss it back in his face. I tore open the package using shaking hands and pulled out a large, folded piece of paper. My eyes skimming the page, the blood in my veins appeared to stop. The contract-like paper was non-negotiable. The first few sentences, "In exchange for protection and safety from all threats, the undersigned agrees to live in the private residence of Cole Westbrook until such time as the threat is no more present," made it quite evident. My pulse hammering in my ears, I let the paper drop from my fingers. "You’ve got to be kidding me," I murmured, hardly audible. His face stayed blank, but his posture exuded unquestionably pride. Not kidding, Avery; this is true. Ready to start a diatribe, I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words. Rather, I turned to face him, my eyes narrowing in defiance. I said, "This is insane," my hand automatically reached for the phone in my bag. "You cannot just make me—" His fingers grabbed my wrist before I could dial, faster than I could respond. Surprised, I sprang back, but his hold remained steady. "Don’t even think about it," he added, his voice low and somewhat menacing. Heart pounding, my mind whirling, I fixed my eyes on him. "You are crazy." He was not flinching. "I am shielding you, Avery. And I won't let you flee from this. He didn't hurt me even though his hold on my wrist tightened just a little. Not exactly, he was not trying to control me. Something else was involved. Something... possessive. Like a wave, the awareness struck me, and I stepped back pulling my arm away. "I need not be protected by you." "Maybe Not," he answered, darkening his eyes with an unreadable emotion, "but I'm not giving you a choice." An icy shudder slid down my back. Looking about, as though the surroundings could provide me some kind of escape, I found no one visible. Now, nobody could assist me. I understood his range of ability. He was not obliged to prove it to me once more. That was the painful lesson I had discovered. But this was another thing entirely. "I'll never agree to this," I said, my voice becoming more steady even as my guts turned over with doubt and anxiety. He turned his head to the side, his lips quivering just so slightly. "You will have no options." A blur of motion caught my sight before I could respond. My heart skipped, and I reached automatically for the knife I always carried in my bag—the one I never would have needed. I then froze, though. The man was shaded far away, purposefully striding toward us. An image of peril. Though I could not see who it was, my instincts yelled at me to flee, therefore alerting me. At first Cole seemed to overlook. He was too busy staring at me, his eyes still sharp as if he were challenging me to try and run from him. "Who is that?" I murmured, my voice almost heard above my heart's thumping. He glanced over his shoulder, his face darkening. "Stay close," he said, his voice abruptly strong. Too late, though. The man had already started to approach. I caught a flash of metal, a rifle. I stopped, my blood turning to ice as everything around seemed to go quiet. Cole fronted me, his body stiff with strain. "Stay behind me," he said, without looking away from the approaching man. My heart raced in my chest as the intruder moved deliberately closer. Stopped a few steps away, his icy eyes locked onto me. "You didn't think you could hide permanently, did you?" He said, his voice icy and contemptuous. Cole's hand drifted to his jacket, where I knew he stored his revolver. "You're too late," he said, snarling. " This is over." The man grinned, a spark of darkness in his eyes. Is that? You seem to be overlooking something." The air surrounding us thickens, and with every breath the stress increases. I knew we weren't going to be walking away from this readily whatever came next. Though I didn't know whether Cole could shield me from what was next, my hand automatically went for him and grabbed him for comfort. The man's smile grew wider, and I felt a chill realizing the danger was only starting. Sharp and loud amid the silence of the night, the sound of a gunshot emerged. Everything became dark. As the gunshot rang through the night, the air buzzed with anxiety; the sound too real, too close. My breath seized in my throat, my body froze as though the world had stopped revolving around me. The menacing smile of the stranger never changed; his eyes fastened into mine with something dark, something dangerous. Cole's body shook slightly, and I noticed his stance underwent a swift, deliberate change. His arm emerged, naturally shielding me while the air surrounding us seemed to thicken and push in on my chest like a vice. I had trouble breathing at all. I struggled to think at all. My ears still heard the sound of the shot ringing. I looked up at Cole; his face was rigid, expression impossible to interpret. His hand tightened on something, but I could not determine if it was his own fist, quivering with adrenaline or a weapon. "Stay down," he said, his voice low and icy. His instincts were on hyperdrive as his eyes swept the night. He was not only shielding me now. He was getting ready for conflict. But my pulse thudding terribly in my ears, my heart surged. The man in front of us remained motionless; his smile became harsher. In the low light, I could hardly discern the specifics, but his silhouette was enough to freeze me down. "You should have stayed out of this, Westbrook," the stranger remarked, his voice tinged with poison. "Now, it is too late. The game's ending. Cole's jaw stiffened. I knew he was reaching for the pistol he always carried—always, just in case—his hand slid into his jacket. "This ends tonight," he replied, his voice icy cold and determined. But the stranger did not flinch. Rather, he stepped forward, gaze flicking momentarily to me then back to Cole. His lips opened into the same contemptuous smirk. "Not if I can help it," he answered, nearly as if he were savoring the occasion. Then, as if on cue, I heard more of them surrounding us—footfall. The little sound of shifting, of something invisible approaching, permeated the frigid air. My heart skipped still another beat, panic coursed through me. "Who else is here?" My voice little above a whisper, I managed to inquire. Fear curled in my gut, yet I dared not turn away from the stranger before me. Trying to make sense of what was happening, my thoughts flew. He is doing this for what reason? Cole did not reply immediately. He was too alert, too concentrated. He moved gently forward, pushing the stranger to turn just a fraction. Cole continued, "You're making a mistake," every syllable loaded with caution. The stranger's smile grew wider, and in the darkness I saw the gleam of something else—something sharp, something lethal. "I don't think I am," he answered, just as the quiet broke with another sound. An explosion. The planet appeared to slink toward another. My pulse halted. I saw just darkness and the impression of something closing in on me. The bullet had hardly registered before the world changed once more, and this time it was not only fear—it was immediate danger. All felt like it was spiraling out of control in that split second. The tension was broken suddenly by a piercing voice, and before I knew what was happening, everything went black once more. Cole's hand on my arm tugged me forcibly out of the way as another shot fired—one too near for comfort. The ground below collapsed, and Cole's face—as icy and unreadable as the night itself—was the last thing I saw before everything darkened.