Lila

For a split second when she woke, Lila's eyesight was slightly blurry, and she thought it was Dane sitting in the chair next to where she lay. She took a deep breath and was about to reach for him when she blinked and the gray temples, hawkish eyes, and lined face that so incredibly mirrored Dane's became clearer.

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She sat bolt upright, the bed underneath her creaking as she pushed herself back and away from this man who had to be Dane's father—the resemblance was breathtaking. She kept blinking in case it was a dream.

No, no it wasn't. He'd come to the apartment. She'd seen him through the peephole and thought he was Dane.

"You're awake," he said pleasantly. He sat in a black, plastic chair between her and the door, the ankle of one foot on the knee of the other, his hand clasped loosely in his lap. "How do you feel?"

She scanned the room quickly, keeping him in the corner of her eye in case he moved. It was a small room that felt like a child's bedroom with its gray carpeted floor, flat walls painted an odd creamy-yellow color, single bed, and an ornate wooden door. There was a window behind her, but the glass was clouded so it let in light, but she couldn't see anything through it.

There were no other windows in the room. And no other furniture. Just the bed, nightstand, and the chair he sat in, which he'd clearly brought with him.

"Delilah?" the man said, "or may I call you Lila?"

Her breath coming shallow and fast, she turned to look at him and was struck again by how devastatingly handsome Dane was—or would become, if this man was anything to measure it by. Her heart raced, not just in fear, but because her body responded to her husband and she kept having to blink and remind herself it wasn't him.

"You're Dane's father," she said, her voice harsh and raspy. She cleared her throat.

He nodded. "And I see he's been filling your head full of stories of my villainy," he chuckled. "He's so dramatic, though I'm sure you've learned that for yourself by now."

It wasn't a question, so she didn't respond. She was desperately trying to think back, to remember the things Dane had told her, warned her about, in case this ever happened.

"Welcome to the family, Lila," he said softly, then tipped his head when she didn't respond. As if he thought she was being rude, but he was too polite to say so.

Lila just stared at him the same way she would if a lion walked into the room and took a seat.

"You can call me Doug, if you like. I don't mind." He paused, but when she didn't say anything his lips thinned. "You don't need to fear me," he said. "I just want to get to know you, since my son won't be bringing you over for Sunday dinner."

"You always abduct people you want to meet?" she said without thinking.

He laughed, and his laugh was a lot like Danes, only more forced. Lila swallowed. It was so odd to see so much of the man she loved in this… person.

"Very good, very good. I can see why he likes you," he said with a wide smile. "I wasn't sure about it all at the beginning. The circles you had him running in… but I can see the attraction," he said, and let his eyes follow her form from her toes, to her head.

Lila fought a shudder. "How did you find me?" she blurted.

He had the same forehead lines as Dane, though more of them. "I'll admit, your location eluded me for a short time. The phone switch was smart." He gave her a look that reminded her of a parent letting their child know that kind of behavior would only be overlooked once. "But I can't give away all my secrets, so… " He trailed off, then raised his hands, palms up, as if apologizing, but he didn't have a choice. "Are you hungry?" he asked, tipping his head towards a small nightstand next to the bed. "I can't let you go back to Dane underfed. He'd never forgive me. Things have been tense between us for years, but I think that would be the tipping point." He punctuated the last two words, making the p's pop between his lips.

"You're sending me back?" she asked, her voice more hopeful than she'd meant it to be.

His eyes flashed. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked, frowning like she'd said something odd. "Like I said, I only want to get to know you—and I know Dane won't create the opportunity. So I am."

But when his eyes met hers, ice slid down Lila's spine. There was something cold and hard in his gaze, something predatory. The sense of threat in him was tangible, though she couldn't have said what he was doing to make himself seem so… dangerous. Yet, every time he so much as blinked, her adrenalin shot up.

"You need to eat. You've been sleeping for a long time. Got to keep your strength up," he said quietly.

Uneasy, Lila looked. There was a tray on top of the nightstand with a sandwich, a small bag of potato chips, and a tall bottle of water. She looked back at him and something Dane had said rolled into her head, like he was there and reminding her of it.

They had been curled up together in the little apartment after that frantic lovemaking when they'd first reunited. His eyes were haunted, and his voice cold. He'd clung to her as he'd described what his father put him through—what he watched his father put others through—and the few ways he knew to get through that kind of torture and sadism.

Do everything he says. Put up no fight. Let yourself be broken. Never give him a reason to escalate.

She'd questioned that, but Dane was firm.

He enjoys breaking people. Be weak. Let him have his way and he'll lose interest a lot more quickly.

So, she nodded and picked up the tray, pulling it onto the bed next to her and picking at the sandwich, though she tasted nothing. It was hard to swallow with him sitting there, staring the whole time. So, she chewed before washing it down with a swig from the bottle.

And she let her fear show on her face.

It wasn't hard.

Inside she was screaming.

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