PIPER
"Get up." Timofey doesn't give me the chance to refuse him. He hooks an arm around my waist and hauls me against his body.
Distantly, I recognize how muscular his arm is around me. I acknowledge the burning heat of his chiseled chest pressed to my side. But I can't enjoy it.
Not when it's the last thing I'll ever feel.
Timofey walks me around the edge of the dining room. As we pass by the kitchen, our waitress steps out.
"Is everything okay? Do you need—"
"I need you to get the fuck out of my way," Timofey barks.
The woman stumbles back against the door as we plow past her. A second later, Timofey shoves open the door to the women's restroom.
A woman is inside washing her hands and he holds the door open for her. His voice is the crack of a whip. "See yourself out."
She takes one look at him and sprints for the door. The moment she leaves the room, Timofey locks it behind her and turns to me.
"Breathe," he orders again.
