Instinct tells me to pull away, and I want to, but I’m frozen. That is until someone grabs me from behind and yanks me off the couch.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Judge snarls.

I don’t know if the question is directed at Theron or me, but I can feel his rage pulsing through his veins as he traps me against his chest. My legs wobble as his dark voice vibrates against my ear.

“Upstairs. Now.”

He releases me, and I go, not daring to glance at Theron. I don’t know what he’s going to say to him, but I know I don’t want to be present for it.

I hurry along the hall, my feet aching with every step I take. It’s only once I’m a short distance from my door that I realize how stupid it was to follow Judge’s order. He’s going to come in here. He’s going to find me, and he’s going to punish me. But before I can consider any alternate escape routes, I hear his footsteps thundering down the hall behind me.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I whisper in a panic as I dart inside my room and slam the door shut behind me.

I know that’s not going to stop him, and I seriously consider if I were to jump off the balcony if it would break something. But then I eye the bathroom, and in a last-ditch effort, I run for it. My bedroom door slams open just as I’m flinging the bathroom door shut, and I catch a glimpse of Judge’s fury. It sends a wave of panic through me, and my fingers tremble as I engage the lock on the bathroom door and scurry backward, seeking out a place to hide. Before I find any, he uses the weight of his body like a battering ram to bust the door in.

I scream. He comes for me.

“Judge, please!” My voice breaks as he grabs me by the arm and drags me back into the bedroom, tossing me onto the bed with a grunt.

“Please, what?” he snarls. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

I’m shaking my head in denial, but we both know it’s a lie.

“You went riding with him.” He grabs my boot and yanks it off, tossing it onto the floor. “You went fucking riding with him today after I explicitly told you not to go near him.”

If I had an answer to that, it gets lost as he tosses my other boot and then starts to yank at my pants. I try to scurry across the bed, but he just grabs me by the ankle and tugs me back to him.

“Tell me, Mercedes,” he growls. “Tell me what you did with him.”

“Nothing!” I pant. “Nothing, I swear!”