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his hands clench into fists and move up momentarily into a ready

fighter position.

"You think too much for your own good." He backed up quickly to

the door until his back and it connected with a thud.

"That is the most sexist put down I've gotten in a while. Thanks for

adding to the level of hatred I'm now growing on your image in my

mind. Right now you are becoming an infectious fungus pretty soon

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you'll be a virus. Maybe you should take your own puritan advice and

shut up."

Patryk's hand scratched against the door until he found the knob.

"Maybe I should." He slowly moved forward with the door.

"Jesus, you're acting like I'm a serial killer about to skin you alive.

If I was going to jump you and take you down don't you think I would

have by now? Do you think I'm faking being lame compared to you?

You did a pretty good job of proving I'm weaker than you." Gillian

toyed with the corner of a pillow, slightly lowering her eyes but then

making them go back to a vigilant watch of him.

"You can never be too sure, Gillian." He slipped sideways into the

space between door frame and door then closed it in his own face.

Gillian watched as the image glaring onto her retina morphed into

her own very familiar door. She'd never stared at it this long and

intensely before, though. She understood the door. It was a carved

piece of wood that was painted and adorned to be useful.

Him ... Patryk ... she totally didn't get. The only thing he'd done

useful was erase the pent up horniness of three months of solitary

sleeping, a slightly better version of the vibrator that she'd slept with

every night since the last mutual breakup, but the vibrator never talked

back or dissed her afterwards.

* * * *

On the other side of the door, Patryk leaned against it and shook his

head violently, punching himself in the cheek as his head whipped

back to being upright. He whacked himself three times on each side

until his vision blurred enough to make his senses reload and cope

with the here and now.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.
This was a stupid Sebastian move. What was he

thinking? Clearly he wasn't. Sure he'd wanted her, but so what. He'd

wanted other women before. Following her and fucking her? That

was like signing a death warrant on her, one he'd have to deliver by

his own rules.

One thing was certain. Sebastian could never, ever find out. And

God damn it why had she been so warm and receptive?

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Humans and their weak survival skills deserved what they got. But

... maybe not her, she'd sensed something, but clearly didn't know

what. He couldn't get near her again. Another whiff of her and he'd

do something that would add to her case against him.

He bit his lip, drawing blood, and made his legs put distance

between them. What he needed was winter air and lot of it to put out

the heat she'd stirred in him. If it came to it, he'd take a swim in the

bay until the only thing throbbing was the muscles trying to make

enough heat to keep him alive, hopefully consciousness would be

frozen.

80

CHAPTER THREE

Gillian grabbed as many pillows as she could and made a sandwich

of them with her in between. Shambling, she scuffled into the

bedroom and turned off the light with her shoulder. She wanted the

rest of the lights to stay on in case she woke up before dawn. Light

wasn't her friend, but darkness was a worse enemy and the pillows

would shield her eyes and body from anything physical that might

attack. Hopefully her brain was too exhausted to set up an ambush of

dreams.

Carefully buttressing pillows over and around her, Gillian only

closed her eyes when she was sure little skin showed. She had never

felt more naked or exposed in her life. Knowing that her door auto-

locked did little to convince her all the demons were on the other side.

Between the dock and Patryk fiasco, her brain could go on for years

turning shadows and sounds into C4 incendiary devices for tearing

down sanity.

* * * *

Gillian sat at her desk over the warehouse. The warehouse was

reinforced steel and concrete, not likely to rumble and shake; and

since they weren't situated over a fault line in the earth's crust, the

quivering had to be completely of her making.

She twitched every time a co-worker rustled a piece of paper or

breathed audibly. It was barely closing time on a Tuesday and she

already felt she'd put in a two-week run with no days off for good

behavior. Her heart and body couldn't take much more, and watching

the clock tick towards 5:00 was driving her to the edge of the chair

and causing her to gouge the metal desk with her fingers.

Her ears ached from tracking every sound's location and the

pounding in her head began to drown out peripheral noise and leave

only her throbbing brain working overtime. The only reason her torso

remained upright and not hidden under the desk was that she'd pushed

her chair so far in her knees were mated with the underside and now

firmly implanted in the metal. Chair arms kept her elbows separated

and away from her chest so she was forced into a non-fetal position.

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Eyes twitched as co-workers groaned and extracted themselves

from work stations to make their way home. Reason told her that

Patryk and Sebastian never showed their faces at work so today would

be no different. After all the only reason she'd met them was because

she'd come back to work late. No amount of repeating the mantra that

they didn't show up during open hours worked though, but still she

couldn't be the first to flee.

There was the chance her knees would buckle, drawing attention to

her. That was the last thing she wanted. Attention could mean things

getting out of control again. No, she had to stay at her desk and move

slowly with the last of the workers, trailing them out the door on their

shadows, not heels.

She focused on watching her neighboring desk and its inhabitant

gather personal items together in preparation for going home. All her

pent up frustration and agitation came barreling down in that one

direction and she cursed at the person to speed things up.

He was always the last one to leave so at worst she'd have one

witness to her collapsing, but couldn't he get his act in gear? It wasn't

like he didn't leave work five times a week. You'd think he'd have it

down to a science after ten years of employment.

Neighboring employee started to mosey in her direction. As she

was about to eject herself from the pen of chair and desk, a large hand

boomed down on her shoulder, preventing the knee-jerk jumping

reaction from gaining any ground.

"You must be the newest employee. It's Gillian, right?" Fingers

tightened, pushing muscles away from her collar bone.

Gillian didn't have to turn or angle her head to know who was

speaking at her. The reverberations of the voice instantly fired her

fight or flight response just like the other night when Sebastian had

talked to Patryk from the other room, but now the voice was close to

her ear and infiltrating her ear canal until she was awash in heat

shattering adrenaline.

She would have chosen to run, even if her buckling knees had little

chance of succeeding, but the chair and desk removed that option.

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She could only whimper when her neighbor left in record breaking

time, leaving her alone under Sebastian's hand and gaze.

His eyes bored through her head, trying to pick up her thought

waves. All evil monsters could do that, and there was no doubt in her

sinews that he was both a monster and evil. Nothing good could

cause her body to turn molten with fear from a simple presence and a

few words.

Patryk might scare her, but Sebastian terrified her and she'd spent

no time in his presence before. Already she had more one-on-one

time with him than she ever cared to experience. The hand remained

on Gillian's shoulder until only two pairs of lungs remained in the

office, one clamoring to limit oxygen intake and the other calm and

steady.

"As a new employee, I realized there are some areas of the

premises you have not seen yet or realize exist. I wanted to remedy

that right away. You don't mind staying a little late tonight do you? I

sense you are the type that works off the clock." Sebastian flexed his

fingers to pull up on her shoulder.

Gillian wanted to say no, but it wasn't an integral part of her

vocabulary. The word tried to form from deep within her throat and

percolate over her lips, but even without looking at him she failed

from his presence alone. Trying again, the word destructed before it

even got to her tongue.

"Glad you don't mind, but there are some areas not on the normal

tour. We like to wait until an employee has made it past the first few

days."

Gillian's face was frozen, locked onto the dancing screen saver that

flickered with the company logo Medical Supplies International. She

couldn't get herself to look at him anymore than she could formulate a

no. To her horror, her chair started moving backwards, knees banging

into the desk and feet dragging against carpet. Like a rag doll, she

was brought to her feet.

"I want you to feel like you're part of a family here. So let there be

no secrets about this place, no hidden corner you aren't familiar with."

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Sebastian squeezed her shoulder so Gillian was angled into his chest

and he could help escort her out of the office space.

Gillian's cheek burned against his chest. She wanted to cry and let

the tears cool down her inflamed skin, but not even her tear ducts

were up to working. Everything happened in slow motion, like snap

shots to take to her grave for comfort in a dark crypt sealed off from

air and life.

Maybe they would serve as mental wallpaper when she was in an

insane asylum and screaming for the demons to leave her alone. She

thought of screaming, but that was more daunting then saying no so

she quickly went back to taking in her surroundings in an out-of-focus

gaze.

He made a beeline for a hallway labeled service deliveries only.

The number of crates and carts littering the entrance way had

discouraged even a vague interest on her part. Not to mention that the

ceiling lights ended a good foot away to shroud the entire area in

shadows and quiet from the buzzing hum of old-time fluorescent

lights.

Gillian feared she was going to choke.

Sebastian battered the blocking detritus aside with his shoulder and

pulled her sideways through the opening he'd created.

Her throat began to constrict.

Crates bounced off the floor.

She jumped.

Carts branded the walls with metal scuff marks. Her throat forgot

which way was up and which was down, causing her to gag on her

own saliva and sputter.

Sebastian squeezed her tighter. "You feel okay? Don't want you

getting sick on us. We like our people healthy and full of warm-

blooded life."

Gillian didn't hear him chuckle, but felt the reverberations of his

chest as it thudded into her repeatedly, draining any reserves she

might have had left to muster up a fight. It was like he was feeding

off her energy, leaving nothing for her to use and forcing her to use

him as a pillar to keep her feet lower than her head.

84

Heat washed over her, melting her brain into swirling levels of

endorphins and adrenaline battling to rewire her legs and arms for

flight, but all the chemicals managed to do was get her to tremble in

Sebastian's arms as he navigated the maze of boxes in the dark

hallway. Her eyes kept trying to focus and refocus, but fear of what

she might see clouded her vision, leaving her blinking until her eyes

burned as much as her skin prickled.

What terrified her was how time dilated like her pupils. They

couldn't have been in the hallway more than a minute tops, but the end

of the hall kept eluding them with more dark objects set up to break

ankles and grind knees into floor.

She'd been in enough buildings in her life to know the door now in

front of them was an emergency exit door complete with a bar handle

that would bleep if not disarmed. She started to sneeze but realized

there wasn't enough dust in the air to finish the action; it had been a

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