Billionaire's Captive Complete Trilogy - Stasia Black Page 0,182

half a minute, then he nods. “Deal."

I wave at him from the doorway before deciding to make good on my promise and head for the kitchen.

I’m opening the refrigerator door to see if anything is left inside or if I need to order more groceries, when a movement catches my eye in my periphery.

I yelp and slam the refrigerator shut when I realize that the movement is a person.

A stranger. In my house. In my kitchen. With me. While I am alone.

“Who are you?” I shout even as I reach in my pocket for my phone. Where the hell is my phone? Were they here the whole time Armand was? Why didn’t the security alarm go off if they broke in?

The person is short and their back is to me. They’re wearing a hoodie and I can’t even tell if it’s a man or woman, or maybe a teenager, they’re so slight. Maybe 110 pounds soaking wet.

Not that I’m taking any chances. I start backing away, my hand scrambling on the counter for anything to protect myself. Naturally, the block of knives is on the opposite counter, closer to my intruder.

My hands close around a rolling pin just as the stranger turns my way.

My fingers lose their grasp and the rolling pin topples to the ground with a loud clatter as I whisper, “Rachel?”

Eighteen

Logan

I’m early to the lab today and haven’t had enough caffeine yet. Without thinking, I scrub a hand down my face, then jerk back when I accidentally touch my cheek where Adam decked me last night.

I still can’t believe that Dr. Laurel didn’t listen to me when I went to his office afterwards to tell him about Adam’s schemes. Then again, he’s grief stricken. Maybe if I try again today, when he’s in a better frame of mind…

I go to the wall and unlatch the sterile equipment cabinet, pulling out the goggles with my name on them. We all started labeling our equipment after some pieces started going missing last year. Now we sign everything in and out.

I ran a group of experiments overnight and I’m eager to look at the slides. So I tug the goggles into position and start on my work, bent over my microscope.

Everything’s normal at first. Business as usual.

Until it’s not.

It starts as an itch.

And then becomes an uncomfortable tingling.

I ignore it. I have work to do. And I’m hoping Daphne will come in at lunch. If I finish up all the slides, then maybe I can sneak her out of here and we can go to Giuseppe’s for pizza and—

The tingling becomes a burning and I push my rolling chair back from the microscope, yanking off my goggles and blinking hard.

What the hell?

I lift my hand to my face but stop just before making contact. Instead, I hurry to the bathroom, shouldering past someone on their way out.

“Hey man, watch out!”

I ignore him and make my way to the mirror, shoving my face towards the glass. It doesn’t look that bad. There was only the smallest incision from where Adams class ring caught my cheek last night when he punched me, but now the whole area is puffy and red.

But then, as I watch, red vein-like spindles begin to spider outwards. Down my cheek. Up towards my left eye.

I stumble back from the mirror, grunting in shocked surprise.

But it’s not stopping.

It only accelerates as I watch.

I reach my phone to call 911 but by the time I’ve dialed, the mirror is already revealing a monster.

The infection or whatever it is, is spreading like spilled ink through the veins of my face. And I’m being lit on fire from within. Hellfire. Burning me alive from the inside out.

I vaguely hear the 911 operator over the phone I dropped to the floor but I’m too busy screaming to answer. Without thinking, I raise my hands to my face but as soon as I make contact, the infection spreads to my fingers.

I burst out of the bathroom looking for somebody, anybody to help. But the first person to see me, Sandra from research and development, screams and drops the files she’s holding.

“Help,” I try to say, but my throat is burning.

I collapse to my knees and that’s when I realize I’m dying.

A slow clap comes from the corner. I lift my face, that now feels like an inferno, just in time to make out Adam’s satisfied smirk as he stands and claps, as if me dying in front of him is some sort of