“Sorry to be a hassle.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. “You know the problem with this place?” I tug my arm back again, but he holds fast. “Besides you touching things that don’t belong to you?” My eyes narrow on him. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” My stomach flutters as his thumb brushes my pulse and he releases my wrist. I answer before I can think better of it. “Hope.” “Hope?” He tips his head closer to mine, as if he wasn’t sure he heard me right. “Hope.” I nod. “Someone like you would never get it, but I knew coming here was a death sentence. It didn’t matter that I’ve been trained my
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