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Whitney paced her room with her arms folded across her chest. The door was locked from the outside, and she was trapped inside. The balcony door had a new lock on it as well. She�d only been gone a short while. She didn�t know how Brent knew she�d left. He must�ve checked on her. There was a soft knock on the door. Whitney paused and stared at the door. Ella peered into the room. Whitney darted out of the room.
Whitney hurried down the stairs and practically ran to the office. The door was closed, but that didn�t stop her. She threw the door open. Brent sat behind his desk while working on the computer. He looked up as she charged across the room. He shut the folder on his desk and returned to the computer.
�Go away,� Brent muttered lowly.
Whitney leaned across the desk and slammed her hands down on it. �Who the hell do you think you are?� she demanded to know. �Sending your thugs to kidnap me off of the street like that!� Whitney eyed the folder on the desk. It read--Drexillian Transmission. Whitney�s brows knitted with confusion. Drexillian was the name of the alien mother ship. What was Brent doing with their transmissions?
Brent didn�t look away from his computer. �You broke one of the rule we�d agreed upon,� he replied simply. �I had my men pick you up for your own protection.�
Whitney�s eyes narrowed. �That town was crawling with alien troops. They nearly got us all killed.� She straightened. �I want those locks off of my doors.�
Brent casually looked at her then back to his computer. �No,� was his simple reply.
�That�s it--our deal is off,� she lashed out. �I have no intentions on staying here any longer. If your men come after me again, I�ll have my friends to back me up.�
Brent turned away from the computer and looked at her. He leaned back in his chair with little expression. �You�re not going anywhere,� he said firmly. �If you run away, I�ll bring you back--then you�re on the next ship to Altora. Now stop wasting my time with your petty threats.� He tilted his head. �Your outside privileges have been revoked for the rest of the day, and you�re attending a party with me in the next town.�
Whitney glared at him with hostility. �I�m not attending a party with you. I made plans with my friends, and I don�t intend to change them.� Whitney once more looked to the folder then met his gaze. �And what are you doing with Drexillian transmission? What business do you have with the alien�s mother ship?�
Brent snatched the folder and placed it in the right desk drawer. �Nothing that concerns you,� Brent snapped and stood.
�We�ll see,� Whitney hissed then spun and marched for the study door. The door opened before she reached it. Both of his men from the alley entered. Whitney paused then glared at Brent. �Call them off!�
�Take her to her room and lock her there,� Brent informed them sternly. �I don�t want to see her again until tonight.�
�You bastard!� Whitney shouted at him then relaxed. �You�d better be ready to fight me, because the next time I see you, I�m going to kill you!�
Brent remained calm. �We�ll see.�
Whitney sat on her bed writing on a note pad. The door was unlocked. Whitney sprang to her feet and ran for the door. She cast herself to the side of the door as it opened. One of Brent�s men entered the room. Whitney thrust her leg out to the side and kicked him in the chest. He was thrown backward. The second man entered the room with his gun drawn. The first slowly recovered and rubbed his sore chest. Brent appeared in the doorway holding a garment bag. He glared at the man with the gun and snatched it from him.
�Don�t be stupid,� Brent said sternly. He returned the gun and motioned them from the room.
Both guards uncertainly left the room. They shut and locked the door behind them. Whitney glared at Brent as he approached the bed. He tossed the dress on the bed then turned to face her.
�I want you to change into this gown and be ready by seven-thirty,� he informed her sternly. �At that time we�ll be leaving for the party. I don�t want any trouble from you.�
�Too late, you�ve already got it,� Whitney snapped and took a step toward him.
�I�m warning you--try anything, and I�ll be forced to hurt you,� he growled.
Brent didn�t move from where he stood beside her bed. Whitney remained only a couple of feet away.
�I�m leaving, Brent,� she said simply. �You can�t stop me from meeting my friends.�
Brent shook his head with a low sigh. �You aren�t going anywhere, except with me.�
�Sorry, Brent--� Whitney announced. She thrust her leg out to the side and kicked him in the chest. He flew backward onto the bed from the sudden force of the blow. Whitney jumped on top of him, prepared to punch him. Brent caught her and blocked her fist. He flipped her over, placing him on top. He pinned her wrists to the bed while straddling her left leg. Both were breathing harshly from the sudden energy serge. Whitney was at a disadvantage under the weight of Brent's body, but she struggled anyhow. Brent applied more pressure to her wrists while holding her down. She stared into his eyes for a long moment. Her heart pounded harshly from the struggle, or was it because he was on top of her? Whitney rammed her heel into the back of his knee. Brent jumped in pain, giving Whitney a chance to break free and punch him in the jaw. Brent was thrown off of her and onto the bed near the headboard. Brent was a little dazed but slowly sat up. Whitney was already on her feet and prepared to fight.
�Next time I'll go for your groin,� she spat in anger.
Brent slowly stood now appearing defeated and broken. Whitney kept careful watch of him, being prepared for any defense measures. He suddenly lunged for her and knocked her to the floor, straddling her waist, and pinning her wrists once more. This time he was on his knees so she couldn't kick him with her legs. Whitney was slightly stunned from the impact. His breathing was now harsh as he held her down with all his strength.
�Now--you're going to get into that dress and do it without any complaining. If you don't, I'm going to start hitting you back.�
Whitney allowed her head to fall to the one side and remained motionless.
�Don't mess with me, Whitney. I'm in no mood for anymore of your games,� he growled.
She looked into his eyes. �I despise you.�
�I'm not very fond of you either, so let's just make this evening tolerable,� he remarked simply. �Will you at least do that much?�
Whitney gazed into his eyes and couldn't help but to stare. �Do I have a choice?�
�No,� he snapped.
Her eyes narrowed. �Then get the hell off of me!�
