Nadia's Point Of View
The freezing concrete bit into my bare soles, but I barely registered the pain. Every ounce of my attention locked on Connor's slumped form before snapping back to the towering, heavily tattooed psycho standing far too close.
A cold, heavy coil of fear wrapped around my throat, squeezing out the last remnants of my corporate bravado. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a frantic drum warning me to run. The rhythm was so violent I wondered if he could hear it, if he could sense the terror radiating from my skin.
I took a stumbling step backward, the oversized black shirt fluttering around my bare thighs, offering no protection against either the cold or his penetrating stare. The fabric felt like paper armor against the weight of his gaze.
