Five - Cornered

"They're lying to you... Don't listen to them!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I approach the receptionist with fright.

Considering my unexpected outburst and the way she's staring at me with confusion right now, she probably thinks I've lost it.

Concern lines her brows as she takes me in. "Excuse me?"

"I said they're telling you lies," I repeat upon reaching the front desk. I'm seething as I glare at Carl and his crew. My chest rises and falls with the anger building inside me. "They are no friends of Jay's. Please, call security. Now."

I turn to the receptionist, my eyes pleading. "Please, believe me," I implore desperately like if she doesn't act fast, some disaster might likely happen.

The receptionist remains confused as she glances between me and the three lying goons on the other side. I can tell she's uncertain about what to believe at this point.

But how could she not believe me?

She can clearly see for herself that these men are nothing but potential threats—especially Carl, whose expression is filled with nothing but malice.

Except when I turn to him again, I no longer see that expression on his face. In fact, I'm shocked to see him teasing the receptionist with a charming smile etched on his lips.

His green eyes gleam as he flirts with her. "Now who are you going to believe, amor? She or us?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I yell, irritation lacing my voice. I'm ready to throw hands as I bark at the receptionist, "I said to call security. They are the goons responsible for my friend's injuries. Trust me, they mean no good."

I pant heavily, tears already filling my eyes out of frustration. I don't understand why she won't believe me over them.

Seeing it's a futile effort to get the brainwashed receptionist to listen to me, I turn to Ava and instruct her to go get security.

She nods eagerly and hurriedly scrambles away in the opposite direction.

Once she leaves, I redirect my gaze to them.

"Really?" one of Carl's friends intervenes with a raised brow as he moves to step toward me with menace.

But Carl holds up his hand firmly, halting him wordlessly. He stays behind Carl while Carl makes the next move.

As he takes a predatory step forward, I take one backward, my heart hammering in my chest.

My throat feels tight and my eyes burn with moisture as I glare at him. An overwhelming feeling of hatred courses through my veins as he smirks smugly and keeps advancing toward me.

Of course, the foolish receptionist still doesn't understand what's happening. She's so clueless that she can't tell it's time to send them out.

"Get away from me," I mutter shakily, my annoyance slipping into my tone.

Carl doesn't listen. He keeps coming forward until he eventually corners me against a counter.

My heart rate spikes when I realize my back is pressed against the hard surface behind me—there's nowhere else for me to retreat.

Still, I glare at him, refusing to show how much he terrifies me.

His scent of cedar quickly invades my nostrils as he pins me with his threatening gaze.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him with a grunt.

"Why, isn't this a public organization?" he replies, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"You shouldn't be here. You're the reason he's in a coma," I retort sharply. "You have no business here!"

He smirks tauntingly. "That's where you are wrong, amor—"

I rudely cut him off, absolutely hating that nickname. "Don't fucking call me that. I am NOT your amor."

He scoffs derisively, and my heart skips a beat when his gaze abruptly dips to my chest.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I notice his expression darken for a second—with anger… lust? I'm not sure.

But when he lifts his eyes back to mine, he sneers at me. "I'll call you whatever I like… And speaking of business, I sure have some unfinished business here, Whitney. With you and with that motherfucking asshole who managed to escape death."

My heart sinks to my stomach at his cruel words. Fear consumes me and I wonder why the hell Ava still isn't back with security.

I wonder why nobody is coming to my rescue.

This man is evil. He's posing threats blatantly, disregarding witnesses currently present in the room with us.

A lump constricts my throat as he takes another step forward, eating up the little space left between us. And images from my wet dream about him last night suddenly flash across my mind, without any warning.

My thighs clench and my insides warm up with heat.