I slowly lift my eyes to his face. His irises are liquid gold again.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s lust in his gaze, but that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe I’m mistaking desire for hatred.

He lowers his face. The coarse hairs of his stubble scratch across my temple. He breathes into my ear. “Remove. The. Claws. Doll.”

Huh? I blink up at him.

Then he looks down.

I follow his gaze to my hands gripping his biceps.

Oh. Oops.

A tingling sensation shoots through me. I pry my hands off him and as I do, I see that my nails have left half-moon marks on his skin.

“Hold out your arms.” His accent, usually slight, comes out thicker. It sounds like he’s from somewhere on the east coast, New York maybe.

I hold out my arms and take a step back so I don’t touch him.

He reaches forward, inspects my inner elbows.

“Never been a fan of needles. I have a low tolerance for pain.” Another reason why Warner and I weren’t meant for each other.

He grunts. “These what I think they are?” He rubs his thumbs over the scars at my wrists. Prickles of desire shoot up my arms like sparkler sparks.

Nope. Not going there.

I’ve already made up my mind about those scars. Let people believe what they want. As far as I’m concerned, I’d rather have them think I tried to kill myself than tell another living soul about the nightmare I lived through.

“Did you bring me in here to learn my deepest, darkest secrets or search for a wire and drugs?”

His eyes flash with anger instantly. He jabs me in the chest with his finger. “Watch your mouth.”

Not physically possible. But I’m not about to tell him that.

“Sit.” The chilling glare is back.

“You know, I’m not a dog,” I say under my breath. Or a cat for that matter.

He growls, “You’re whatever the fuck I say you are. Sit. The. Fuck. Down.”

I sit, without meaning to, because . . . oh shit . . . I think I just lit his fuse.

In viewing the world through our perceptions, we can miss the truth of reality, causing us to wage unnecessary wars.

EMBER

Luce makes his way around the desk to his chair, shaking his head the entire time. “I can already tell you’re gonna have a problem keeping that mouth in line.” He pulls a pack of smokes from his jacket pocket and lights up. The cherry on the end of the cigarette blazes red. His cheeks hollow, and I get distracted by his full lips.

His lips are fascinating. Kissable. Way too damn sexy.

Dammit! Look away.

Too late. He raises an eyebrow. I quickly drop my eyes to my hands as I wait for the interrogation I sense coming. He takes his time. I glance up now and then, but realize he’s going to make me suffer in uncomfortable silence while he smokes the entire cigarette.

When he finally reaches forward to put it out, he asks gruffly, “Why are you really here?”

I decide to go with the truth. “Everything I own was stolen today. My money. My clothes. I had nowhere else to go.”

“I think we both know this isn’t where you need to be. You got family? Why not ask them for help?”

I shift in my chair. “They can’t help me.”

He examines my face. Probably to see if I’m lying or not. “Why not?”

I consider my answer for a few seconds. A few seconds too long it turns out.

“Answer the question, Doll.” He sneers the word doll as if he’s making fun of my height. Nothing new.

“My mother took off six years ago, and she’s been MIA ever since. I have a sister, but she couldn’t help me even if she wanted to. She can barely hold down a job and support herself.”

I’m not going to tell him about Will. He’ll probably use my love for her against me, if he found himself in need of leverage over me.

“What about your father?”

I snort sullenly. “Don’t know. Just some guy my mom had a fling with. I know his name, but that’s about it.” The name’s just common enough to make tracking him difficult. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

“What about friends, boyfriends?”

I flinch. An image of Warner flashes through my mind. Every muscle in my body goes rigid.

Mav sits forward in his chair. His eyes narrow and roam over me. “So that’s what you’re running from then? Your man?”

What can I say in my defense? That Warner is a psycho? Abusive? Controlling? Beyond crazy?

“It’s complicated. He—”

Before I can say anything else, a dark look transforms Mav’s features. Suddenly, he’s Lucifer personified.

“Does he have any idea where you are? Or did you take off without a word?”

What the hell? “I had to—”

“Probably going out of his fucking mind, searching high and low for you. Wondering what the fuck? And here you are”—his lip curls—“running off lookin’ for a good time. Handing out your virginity because what? You wanna go for a hard ride on the wild side before you settle down with a nice Christian boy? That it? Get broken in real good before you shack up and become some pretty housewife for the rest of your life?”

I reel back as if he slapped me and leap to my feet. A different kind of fire burns inside me now. It loosens my tongue. My nails dig into my palms to the point I’m sure I draw blood.

My mind swirls with things to say. Things that would make Mav’s damn head spin.

“You’ve got no idea of the hell I’ve lived through!” He’s being a judgmental dick. Just because some old girlfriend crushed his heart doesn’t mean every girl he meets is exactly like her. Yeah, I heard part of his and Dozer’s conversation. Some redheaded ex named Dana screwed him over and now he’s taking his anger at her out on me.

“Yeah? Then tell me, Doll, what’s it like?”

As if I’m watching it on the big screen, horrid memories scroll through my mind. Nausea stirs in my stomach. I instantly feel dirty all over. I could take a hundred showers and still never rid myself of the filth those memories leave behind. I pull a deep breath into my lungs and shake out my balled fists.

Then I realize something and boldly tell him, “No.”

“No? No what?”

His hate is so ingrained that he doesn’t see me when he looks at me. He sees her, his ex. He’d rather believe in this conjured, distorted image of me than listen to anything I have to say to defend myself. I’m not baring my soul and showing him the most vulnerable parts of me. Just like I haven’t earned his anger, he hasn’t earned my answers.

“Just no,” I bite out.

“You’re not gonna tell me?” He cocks his head to one side. “Fine. Then let me guess.” He stands, places his hands on the desk, and leans toward me. The veins in his forearms bulge. “He didn’t take you out enough? Didn’t give you enough attention? Spend enough money on you?”

I roll my eyes. “That’s it.” Sarcasm drips from my words. “You nailed it. He was such a gentlemen. Rich. Handsome. Treated me like a queen.” More like slave. “And you know what? That wasn’t enough for me. Because I’m just like your ex, right?”

Mav’s face darkens, and his nostrils flare. He advances around the desk.

My pulse quickens. I back up but my knees hit the chair, stopping from getting any further away from him.

He grabs my chin and uses it to push me back down into my chair. He growls, “I don’t fuckin’ like you. I don’t want you here. In fact, I don’t want you anywhere near this club. But I gave Dozer my word. Twelve days. That’s it. And you better watch your fuckin’ step and that smart goddamn mouth of yours. You fuckin’ feel me?”

I glare up at him as I try to yank my chin from his iron grip, but his fingers clasp my jaw so tightly I’m certain they’ll leave fingerprints behind.

“You’ll clean, cook, do anything I fuckin’ tell you to do. And you’ll stay the fuck out of my way. That clear enough for you?”