I stepped out of Phil's office with the file still clutched to my chest. I barely made it into the dimly lit corridor before a hand, locked around my wrist.
"What the hell!"
I was yanked sideways so fast the file nearly slipped from my grip.
He dragged me down the hallway before I could react, around a corner between two pillars where the corridor narrowed and no one could see us.
My back hit the wall.
"Dylan!" I gasped.
He stood in front of me, jaw tight, his damp silver hair falling messily over his forehead and catching the light. The edge of a tattoo crawled up his neck, disappearing under his half-open silk shirt.
"What do you want?" he said flatly. His hand was still crushing my wrist.
I blinked, forcing my breathing to stay shallow, trying to channel a calm I absolutely did not feel. "What?"
"Don't play stupid" His grip tightened again. "Who the fuck sent you?"
