Chapter 13 - The Wolf at the Door
We had just managed to zip the final small suitcase closed when the heavy, muffled footsteps we had been dreading began echoing down the hallway. My stomach plummeted. I grabbed Emily's hand, pulling her slightly behind me as the guest room door swung wide open.
Ryan stood in the doorway. The charming, relaxed facade he had worn during dinner had completely evaporated. He looked at the zipped suitcase sitting conspicuously on the bed, then his dark, calculating eyes shifted to me, and finally settled on Emily. His physical presence was incredibly menacing; he seemed to fill the entire doorframe, effectively blocking our only exit.
He stepped fully into the room, and the chilling click of the bedroom door latch closing behind him made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees in a single second.
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Emily stood frozen beside the bed, one hand still resting protectively under her belly. She was breathing entirely too fast, caught in the terrifying grip of a panic attack. I moved closer to her, ensuring my body was positioned directly between her and him, refusing to take my eyes off his face.
"Where exactly," Ryan asked, his voice low, cold, and utterly devoid of emotion, "do you think you’re taking my wife?"
