Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             With a swift movement, I pick the empty tray by the foot of the bed and position it in front of my chest. Adrenaline flows through my muscles, tightening them. I plant my feet in a wide stance and hold his merciless gaze with my own.

                             Bring it, psycho.

                             Aaron approaches me with adamant steps. I almost flinch at the lethal look in his eyes. Almost. Instead, I purse my lips and hold my chin high.

                             When he’s at arm’s reach, I pull the tray up and bring it down on his chest. Aaron is faster. He grabs and twists my wrist with bruising force. My fingers unclench and the tray clatters to the ground.

                             “No!” I struggle against him, kicking at his chest and legs. “Let me go!”

                             Aaron’s arms wrap around me from behind. The brute force subdues all my struggles.

                             I can’t win against him. Not physically.

                             A tear rolls down my cheek. “Please...” I whisper, adrenaline leaves place to tremors.

                             “Stop it.” Hot breaths caress my neck as his low merciless voice penetrates my ear. “I will not kill you.”

                             His words reverberate in the space before they strike me. I swallow. “Y-you’re not?”

                             “I am not.”

                             Chancing a glance at him, I study his face for any signs of truth. Nothing. Only that expressionless façade. “T-then where are you taking me?”

                             “A change of location.” He releases me with a gentle push. I stagger at the lack of the strong hold. “Follow me.”

                             My feet are too numb to move. “To where?”

                             He pivots around, a fog of annoyance clouding the twitch in his left eye. “Shut the fuck up, Mae. One more word and I will drag you out by the hair.”

                             I bite my lower lip to keep my mouth closed. That was the first time he cursed, and it was only due to irritation. I don’t want to see what this man’s anger looks like. I force my feet to follow his strides.

                             Once the darkness of the corridors meets us, I freeze at the doorway. My mind screams at me to crawl back into the light.

                             “Move.” Aaron glares. “I have no time for this.”

                             My fingers tug at the hem of my baggy T-shirt. I’d rather anger him than what awaits me outside. “I can’t. It’s too dark.”

                             He extends his arm to me. “It will help, right?” He motions for my hand. “Take it.”

                             My lips part. Is this another cruel psycho joke? He smothers his victims with fake care then takes sick pleasure in crushing them?

                             “Mae.” My name is called in a form of a warning— one whose repercussions I don’t wish to know.

                             I reach for his arm and clutch the soft material of his jacket as a safe line. My soul curses me for not being brave enough to refuse his help.