Page 76 of Vicious Fall

I open my mouth to inform them I wouldn’t have even noticed the man if it weren’t for the fact that he was eye fucking me at the ball, but stop in frustration when once again it's hard to talk.

“She’s too drugged for the conversation we need to have,” Griffin says before gesturing at the blonde man. “Fix her, Cobain.”

The blonde, Cobain, moves forward, pulling a long syringe from inside of his coat. I wriggle, pain be damned, trying to get away from him.

He only raises a brow, amusement in his eyes. He wraps his free hand in my braids, tugging harder than necessary until I can’t move. With his other hand, he plunges the syringe into my neck.

All at once, it feels like a shock runs through my body. I press my lips closed tightly, refusing to cry out, absorbing the pain. When it finally fades, my body heaves with deep breaths. It takes me a few moments to realize that barring my headache, I don’t feel quite as bad anymore.

“We’re sorry for the dramatics,” The man from the ball says. He takes a step closer even as Cobain takes one back. Griffin remains in the distance. “We didn’t know how you’d respond if we simply asked for a meeting so-”

“You figured kidnapping me would work,” I cut him off, thankful that I can form my own words again. I frown at the men even though it's definitely clear now that they don’t have any intention on hurting me.

I let my gaze flick between them, the fight in the alley coming back to mind. “Who did I stab?” I ask, remembering connecting with flesh with my knife.

“Cobain,” Griffin jerks a finger at the other man.

Cobain simply lets out a grunt, folding his arms over his chest, causing his muscles to flex. “Barely a flesh wound.”

I scoff. “You got lucky. If I weren’t so focused on whoever was behind me, you never would have gotten the drop on me.”

His lips tilt down slightly. “Sounds like a lot of excuses,” he finally says with a shrug far too casual for my liking.

There’s something slightly infuriating about the blond. I don’t know if it’s his dismissive attitude or the fact that he managed to capture me.

I open my mouth to argue further but the blue eyed man takes a step forward, holding out a hand to halt me. “Lets just call us even and not worry about who got the drop on who. You stabbed Cobain, we drugged you, sounds like we’re all squared up to me.”

I remain silent.

Until I know exactly what it is that they want, it's probably best I shut up for once in my life. The ball was a month ago and they were watching me then, considering hiring me, probably had already had a tail on me before then.

Which is concerning.

Because how didn’t I notice?

I shift slightly, the bounds around my wrist pulling and reminding me of their presence. “Are you going to take this rope off of me?” I ask in annoyance.

So much for remaining silent.

Cobain only stares at me.

Griffin rubs at his jaw before turning to look at blue eyes.

“You don’t seem too pissed,” he muses, “but maybe we should wait until you’ve heard our entire proposition.”

I grit my teeth in annoyance, but don’t say anything further. I’m at their disposal, the bounds too tight for me to get out of unless I want to break a thumb, which I certainly don’t want to. And the way my arms are pulled back behind the chair is starting to become uncomfortable so the quicker we can get this over, the quicker I can be freed.

“Fine, give me your spill then,” I grit out, “but if you want to hire me, I can promise you this isn’t the way to start off your proposal.”

“We don’t want to hire you,” Griffin says, creeping a little closer. When he’s standing right beside my chair, I have to tilt my head back to look up at him and like before, I find myself halted by how beautiful he is. Unbidden, an image of him pops up in my head.

Slacks, glasses, his shirt open, and his hands wrapped around the ends of a tie that he has pulled tightly in his grasp as he looks down at me.

Because the man definitely gives me sexy undercover nerd vibes and I’m unsure why.

Maybe if we all make it out of this place in one piece, I can convince him to play out the fantasy.

And there my mind goes again, wondering about the wrong thing at the wrong time.