I can barely think. “Who?” I whisper, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. And then it hits me. “Jake?”

“Yes, Nora,” he says darkly. “Jake.”

“Is he—” I don’t know if I can even say it out loud. “Is he… alive?”

“For now,” Julian says, his eyes burning into mine. “He’s in the hospital with a mild concussion.”

I’m so relieved I slump against the wall. And then the full meaning of his words hits me. “What do you mean, for now?”

Julian shrugs. “His health and wellbeing are entirely dependent on you.”

I swallow to moisten my still-dry throat. “On me?”

His fingers caress my face again, push the hair back behind my ear. I’m so cold I feel like his touch is burning my skin. “Yes, my pet, on you. If you behave, he’ll be fine. If not…”

I can barely draw in a breath. “If not?”

Julian smiles. “He’ll be dead within a week.”

His smile is the most beautiful and frightening thing I’ve ever seen.

“Who are you?” I whisper. “What do you want from me?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he touches my hair, lifts a thick brown strand to his face. Inhales, as though smelling it.

I watch him, frozen in place. I don’t know what to do. Do I fight him now? And if so, what would that accomplish? He hasn’t hurt me yet, and I don’t want to provoke him. He’s much larger than me, much stronger. I can see the thickness of his muscles under the black T-shirt he’s wearing. Without my heels on, I barely come up to his shoulder.

While I contemplate the merits of fighting someone who probably outweighs me by a hundred pounds, he makes the decision for me. His hand leaves my hair and tugs at the blanket I’m holding so tightly.

I don’t let go. If anything, I clutch it harder. And I do something embarrassing.

I beg.

“Please,” I say desperately, “please, don’t do this.”

He smiles again. “Why not?” His hand is continuing to pull at the blanket, slowly and inexorably. I know he’s doing it this way to prolong the torture. He could easily rip the blanket away from me with one strong tug.

“I don’t want this,” I tell him. I can barely draw in air through the constriction in my chest, and my voice comes out sounding unexpectedly breathy.

He looks amused, but there’s a dark gleam in his eyes. “No? You think I couldn’t feel your reaction to me in the club?”

I shake my head. “There was no reaction. You’re wrong…” My voice is thick with unshed tears. “I only want Jake—”

In an instant, his hand is wrapped around my throat. He doesn’t do anything else, doesn’t squeeze, but the threat is there. I can feel the violence within him, and I’m terrified.

He leans down toward me. “You don’t want that boy,” he says harshly. “He can never give you what I can. Do you understand me?”