“Madden, what’s going on? Is everything okay?” Concerned. She’s going with concerned over pissed-the-fuck-off.

My lips press into a thin line. “Do you think we’d be spending a Sunday evening here if everything was okay?” I clip, sidestepping her to get to my car. “And no, I’m not going to discuss it with you. Go home and stay there until you hear from me.”

At first, she doesn’t respond, but just as I’m bending myself into the driver’s seat, she pivots and sprints over to me, using her arm to force the door open wider. “Wait!” she exclaims. “I don’t have a car here. You can’t leave me in this part of L.A. at this time of night. Your parents and mine would never forgive you.”

Gritting my teeth, I’m furious, because I know she’s right. I’m still not sure what to believe about her, but I’m too much of an emotional wreck right now to argue. If she truly has nothing to do with any of this, I’d never forgive myself if something happens to her too.

“Get in,” I grumble, ready to drop her off and get home. “Hurry.”

Emerson circles around the front of the car and climbs into the passenger side with a victorious glint in her eyes. Thankfully, she’s smart enough to keep her mouth shut during the drive to her house.

When she gets out, she leans over the center console and brushes her lips against my cheek. “I’ll wait to hear from you. If you need my help, let me know. Don’t push me away, Madden. I’m not the enemy.”

The moment the door latches, I take off down the street, desperate to get away from her before I lose my shit. And during my trip home, alone in my car with the heaviness of the entire situation, my entire world completely falls off its fucking axis.

I realize I no longer care about my company, my family, my own life. Now that I know the truth about Blake, about the life she endured before I found her, I’m in even deeper than before. I can’t let her down. I have to save her.

The next thing I know, I’m packing an overnight bag and headed to the airport. I’ve got a one-way ticket to Chicago, and I’m not coming home without the girl I love.

TWO DAYS, I’VE BEEN STUCK inside this cabin. Two days of nothing but staring at the four walls, torturing myself with all of the ‘what ifs’ my mind can conjure up. And there are millions.

I still have no idea where we are. The one time I was daring enough to peek out the frosty rectangular window above the couch, all I could see were trees. A thick forest of redwoods surrounded the remote cabin, with icicles dangling from the near-barren limbs. Not a single hint at our location or any other civilization. And I don’t dare get close to the only door in the place, reinforced with numerous key-only deadbolts.

Raze stays in the small bedroom off the living area most of the time, either speaking in Russian on his phone or working on his laptop. Knowing we’re somewhere that has cellular and internet service gives me hope, but he makes a point of locking up the electronics in a safe each time he’s finished using them.

Other than to go to the bathroom, the only time I’ve left the couch was for a shower last night. I broke down and cried as I stood under the lukewarm spray, finally allowing the emotions to get the best of me. I’m trying to be strong, but any chance of escaping already feels bleak and hopeless. Where would I go? And how long would it be before Raze found me again? Or even worse . . . Vincent.

Raze has barely spoken to me since we first arrived and I spit in his face, both literally and figuratively, as I refused to answer his questions. He emerges out of the room only to prepare food for the two of us, leaving me a plate of whatever he’s made on the coffee table. I pick at it, unable to ignore the emptiness in my stomach, but not without resentment. I hate being here with him. I hate everything he is. Everything I tried so hard to free myself from.

There’s been no mention of Madden again, and I spend most of my time worrying about his safety. The guilt inside me worsens with each passing hour. Guilt that I didn’t tell him who I was or what I’d done. Guilt that I so selfishly allowed him to fall for me, and for me to fall for him, giving him a false hope of a future between us. Guilt that I’ve put his life in danger. And now, I doubt I’ll ever be able to apologize. All I can hope is he stays safe. And alive.

Lying down on the lumpy cushions, I pull the blanket up to my chin and close my eyes, hoping tonight won’t be another sleepless night. You’d think by now I’d have learned how to turn my mind off and forget the pure madness surrounding me, but I haven’t. It follows me everywhere. Eating away at what’s left of my sanity. Bit by bit. Soon, there will be nothing left of me for them to take.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Slow and steady. Let me take care of you.”

Madden’s voice washes over me, soothing any anxiety I have about what’s about to happen. I know he won’t hurt me, as my pleasure is his primary concern. He owns it. Owns every part of me. Including my heart.

“Let me know if it’s tied too tight or becomes uncomfortable at any time, and I’ll free you immediately,” he assures me as he tugs on the knot binding my wrists to a slat on his headboard. “Same for the blindfold. You want it gone, just tell me. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I nod, licking my parched lips, desperate for his kiss. Tingles of anticipation climb up from the tips of my toes and descend down from the top of my head, converging at the apex directly between my legs. My panties are already damp, my nipples pebbled into hard peaks, and he hasn’t even touched me.

This isn’t the first time Madden has bound and blindfolded me, but it’s still a huge step each time he does. Giving up control to him—fully submitting to his will—is something I never in a million lifetimes dreamed I’d be able to do after my life with Ish. But there’s something about this man that makes me want to do it. My desire to please him overrides any fears and insecurities I still have. It frees me from the darkness.

“Yes what?” His warm breath drifts over my bare stomach as he slides down my body, causing goose bumps to spread across the exposed flesh.

My lips curl up in a coquettish smirk, but I purposely refuse to answer him, finding rare confidence in my vulnerable state. Barking out a deep chuckle at my playful disobedience, he leans down and draws one of my hard rosy buds in between his teeth, biting hard enough to make my back bow off the mattress. I gasp, excited.

“Yes what?” he repeats, flicking his tongue torturously over my nipple. The sharp pain in my breast quickly morphs into a thrum of erotic pleasure, and the vibration of his voice adds an additional layer of stimulation to his roguish teasing.

Again, I refuse to answer, knowing exactly where this little game is heading. From the first time we were together, Madden has always liked when I call him Sir when we’re in bed. It makes him feel in complete control, his cue I’m handing over the reins to my body, freeing my mind of everything except the sensual gratification he bestows. For whatever reason, taking care of me, worshipping my body with never-ending reverence, is what makes him happy. And what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t want him happy?

But I do like to make him work for it . . .

His mouth moves from one breast to the other, performing the same tantalizing trick to the other sensitive tip. “My sweet girl likes being bad?” He releases me with a loud pop then I feel the tip of his nose resting against mine. His mouth hovers directly above mine, and there’s nothing I want more in this moment than to feel our lips fused together. I need it like I need my next breath.