Ana's POV
Before I could even react, Ridley slammed me down onto the mattress.
I stared up at his eyes, wild with frustration and fury, and my pulse stuttered. He wasn't bluffing this time.
I fought against him. "Ridley, have you lost your damn mind? Get off me."
Ridley's fingers found the buttons on my blouse, and the chaos in his gaze shifted into something hungrier, more dangerous.
He ignored my thrashing and pressed his face into the curve of my neck.
My blood turned to ice. The more desperate things became, the sharper my focus grew.
My hand slipped toward my pocket. The tiny blade I used for my pencils was still there.
Prison had taught me to always carry something with an edge. Just in case.
Crash. A sudden sound from the doorway froze everything.
I turned and spotted a mug shattered on the floor, white liquid pooling everywhere. Aileen stood frozen in the entrance, mortification written across her face.
"Aileen?" Ridley's voice cracked with panic.
