The Imposter

The Imposter | Chapter Ten [Bloviate]

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[Chapter Ten]

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bloviate \BLOH-vee-ayt\

(v.) To speak or write at length in a pompous or boastful manner

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Dancing with Kyle was nothing like I had ever experienced. Right when we got out on the dance floor the DJ decided to put on a slow song, so Kyle pressed me even closer to his solid frame. My hands fluttered uselessly until I finally decided to rest them on his strong shoulders. Heat crept into my cheeks when he leaned closer and whispered in my ear. His voice was dark and rich and sent shivers down my spine...until I realized what he was saying.

"I know you're scared," he said softly, "but you don't have to worry about anything."

"I appreciate your concern, Kyle, but really, I'm okay," I insisted. I didn't like this new side of him. I don't know how to describe it, but there was something off. He wasn't normally this kind and understanding, and I didn't think he was being sincere. It was just too...easy.

He pulled his head back to look at me, still keeping his frame pressed against mine, swaying with the beat of the music. I saw condescension in his eyes as he grinned slowly. "I've got it all under control," he said smoothly, "you really don't have worry about it." Translation: I'm the man and you're just a stupid little girl, don't bother yourself with this mess.

Affronted, I stiffened and pushed his arms away from me, trying to put a distance between us. "Dayna," he said in a placating tone, treating me like a small child. He reached out for me, trying to pull me close to him again. "You're making a scene," he warned me.

I slapped at his hands and took a step back, feeling the anger and irritation course through my veins. I was at my breaking point and he had pushed me past it. "Stop pretending like you know what's going on and stop pretending like you know me! Because you don't. I'm sick and tired of your pompous ass attitude so just leave me alone!" The only warning I got was a slight flickering of his eyes before he had a death grip on my arm and was dragging me out of the room and into the hotel hallways. "Hey!" I protested, trying to yank my arm back.

Kyle didn't say a word; he just kept pulling me after him. We walked down a hallway for a minute before he stopped in front of a nondescript door. Without letting go of my arm, he pulled something out of his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole. He jiggled it for a bit and then opened the door with a click.

I got a glimpse of some obscure shapes before the door was shut behind me again, leaving us in pitch-black nothingness. Fear of the dark started to set in, but before I could have a mini freak out moment Kyle clicked the light on. We were in a medium sized maid's closet. What the hell?

Feeling irritated and pissed off I crossed my arms and glared at him. "What is wrong with you and why are we in a closet?"

"You are going to shut up and listen to me," Kyle growled, taking a step closer to me.

"I'm going to scream," I warned him warily. He looked like a predator when he slitted his eyes and tensed his frame. Any minute now he was going to pounce on me and I would die. It was then, I realized, that I was in a closet somewhere in the hotel with a guy I hardly knew. A guy who allegedly hated my guts and now had every opportunity to hurt me without anyone being the wiser about it.

"No," he snarled, stepping even closer, "you're not."

Glaring defiantly I opened my mouth to scream, but he had his hand pressed against my mouth within seconds. His other hand was resting on the wall next to my head. "I'm going to remove my hand," he said slowly, "but if you make any noise I won't hesitate to bring it right back up." He pulled his hand away slowly and placed it on the other side of my head, effectively caging me in.