It was like they were multiplying around us in the dozens. Ryder and Tate fought them but we were surrounded. Outnumbered and outgunned.
“Stay behind me!” Ryder yelled, pushing Tate behind him and dodging a fist.
I turned to find Cash, to get help, and that’s when it happened. An arm snaked around my waist. A cold nose buried in my hair, right over my ear.
“Told you I’d have you one way or the other.”
My face went white. My stomach bottomed out. It was Paul.
He shoved the hard end of a gun into my side. “Let’s go, little bird.”
I looked at Ryder and Tate. They were too busy fighting off men to notice. I opened my mouth to shout at them but the gun jammed into my side painfully.
I winced and curved my body away – it was my side with the still-healing bullet wound – but Paul yanked me back to him. He leaned down and whispered in my ear again, his hot breath fanning over my hair.
“Scream and I’ll put a bullet in your brother’s spine. He’ll never walk again.”
I closed my mouth. Tears from the gun wedged in my ribs and the fear for Tate’s life, filled my eyes.
“Good girl,” Paul hissed in my ear. He grabbed my upper arm in a bruising grip and started dragging me through the crowd.
I stumbled. I almost fell. I blinked away the tears. He used the chaos to his advantage and hauled me through the mob of people. The gun poked into my side and his fingers pinched my arm. I tried to turn around and look for Cash, Tate, or Adam – somebody – but I couldn’t see anybody in the fighting.
I had fought off Ryder like a madwoman but fear froze me with Paul. My mind shut down. I couldn’t fight. Couldn’t breathe.
At the edge of the crowd, Paul steered me toward the hotel. I woke up from my terrified stupor. If he got me inside, the worst would happen. I had to do something.
I ignored the gun in my side and tried to yank out of his grip. He frowned and held onto to me tighter but I wasn’t giving up yet. I started to turn and scream for help but Paul lifted the gun and pressed it against my temple.
“You yell, you get a bullet. If anyone comes after you, they get one too.”
I swallowed my scream and stilled.
Paul smiled. “Good, good. I knew you were a brave little one. I want to play with you some more.”
He jammed the gun in my side again and tugged me toward the hotel entrance. I shook violently as he yanked open the door and pushed me in. The interior was dark and cold. Empty and eerie quiet. I shivered and tried to shrink away but Paul’s broken and long fingernails bit into my arm painfully and held me still as he flipped the lock on the hotel’s door.
My heart pounded. I struggled to breath. He was locking us in. I could taste the terror, rising on my tongue like bile. No one would find me. No one would know where to look. I wondered if I could fight him off again or if this was it. The end.
Paul shoved me into the dining room. I listened for any signs of Mary but all I could hear was the hum of a heater and the rushing of blood in my ears.
He prodded my side harder with the gun as we headed toward the stairs. “Your man foiled my plans, escaping the noose like some damn escape artist. But when I saw my opening, I took it. We got business to finish, little thing, and I’m looking forward to it.”
I found my voice and some courage. “He’s going to kill you,” I hissed, trying to jerk out of his grasp. “But I hope you suffer first.”
Paul laughed, a high-pitched squeaky sound. “Ain’t lost none of that sass have you? Well, I’ll beat it out of you and teach you a thing or two about respect. First, let’s get somewhere more private.”
He gave me a hard shove up the stairs. I almost tripped on the bottom step but caught myself, grabbing onto the railing. My hands shook. I could hear the faint sounds of gunfire and shouting outside.
I took my time going up the dark stairway, trying to buy time. Maybe if I went slow enough, someone would show up. I just needed to distract Paul and keep him from getting me into a room alone.
“They are going to figure out I’m missing. It’s only a matter of time until they come looking for me,” I said, moving slow up the stairs.
Paul snorted behind me. “Let ’em. By the time they show up, I’ll be done with you and you’ll be no good for anyone anymore.”
He gave me a hard shove at the top of the stairs. I fell to my knees but he yanked me up and dragged me down the hallway. I fought and twisted but he buried his hand in the back of my hair and jerked me to him. Tears prickled the back of my eyes as he pulled strands of hair. He shoved the gun up under my jaw.
“That’s enough, little bird. I would hate to splatter these walls with you.”
I shivered with fright. I didn’t know what to do. When I calmed down, Paul lowered the gun and pushed me the rest of the way down the hallway until we came to the last door. Pushing it open, he propelled me inside. It was colder. Darker. The room had been shut up, the warmth from the heater not able to reach it. The blinds had been drawn, only small beams of sunlight getting in.
Paul let me go and gave me a hard shove into the room. I staggered forward and stopped in the middle of the room. Turning, I faced him, shrinking back.
He kicked the door closed with the heel of his boot and locked it. Setting his gun down on a small side table by the door, he strolled into the room, licking his lips and looking me up and down.
“Take off that dress, honey,” he said in a smooth voice, a lecherous look in his eyes. “I want to see all of you.”
I backed away, my bare feet so cold I couldn’t feel them anymore. “No. Go to hell.”
He chuckled, sounding fascinated by my refusal. “Say that again – no. I like it.”
I gulped and took a step back.
“Come on. Say it again. ‘No’ sounds so sweet coming from your mouth. I love it when you refuse. I really love it when you struggle. Makes me all horny and hot. Really gets my dick hard. You wanna see?” He reached for his zipper.
Bile rose in my throat and I shook my head, moving back slowly.
He giggled and popped open the top button of his jeans. “Oops. How did that happen? Your turn, little bird. Take off your dress.”
My hip hit the bedside table, making the lamp on it shake. “Screw you.”
Paul shrugged, his gaze lustful and hungry on my legs. “Guess I’ll have to do it myself then.”
I screeched as he leaped at me and tried to dart away but he was fast.
“NOOOO!” I screamed as he grabbed me and flung me to the floor.
My head hit the hard surface. Stars appeared behind my eyes. Before I could recover, he was on me. Pulling my dress up. Yanking my underwear down. Vicious. Painful. His nails scraping the back of my thighs.
“There it is,” he murmured, his thick middle finger finding me.
I came alive. Thrashing. Crying out. I tried to buck him off me but he had me pinned to the floor, grating my hipbones into the cold, hard wood with his crotch.
I screamed and fought, becoming a madwoman. He restrained me with an arm across my back and leaned off enough to unzip his pants. I went berserk, digging my fingers into the floor and trying to crawl out from under him. Screaming until my throat was raw.
He held me down and pushed his jeans out of the way, muttering obscene things that he couldn’t wait to do with me. A warm, fleshy object smacked my leg. Oh god. Oh god. I was going to be sick. Run, Cat, now! That voice in my head screamed.
I gagged and tried to crawl out from under him, but he was stronger and determined to get what he wanted. He grabbed a handful of my hair and tucked me back under him.
“You’re so soft, little bird.” He trailed a finger over my bottom, despite my struggling. “Time to make you sing.”
When he leaned close to my ear, I saw my chance. It was either fight or be raped. Do or die.
I threw my elbow back as hard as I could. It caught him in the jaw, the pointy bone hitting its mark. Smack!
He let out
a yelp of pain and let me go, his head snapping back and his jaw cracking to the side. Knowing I had only seconds, I pushed to my feet and started to run but he recovered quick.
And went crazy.
“Bitch!” He grabbed the hem of my dress and yanked.
I heard a tear but scrambled to get away, the collar of the dress choking me as he held on. He gave the dress another hard tug and dragged me back. I screamed and fought but he grabbed a chunk of my hair and slammed me down to the floor.
I cried out and flailed. He was breathing hard, angry. Insane. He pulled my head up and slammed it down. My cheek hit the floor. Pain exploded in my head. I struggled to stay conscious and tried to crawl away. He lifted my head up and slammed it down again. Harder. Pulling strands of my hair out, muttering under his breath that I was his.
He was killing me. I knew it in some part of my brain as he rammed my head onto the floor. Everything went fuzzy. The room faded in and out. My muscles shut down. Blackness started to take over. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
Paul grunted with approval when I grew limp. He shoved my dress around my waist and crawled on top of me. “God, I’m going to love this.”
My eyes drifted closed as he shoved my legs apart. Unconsciousness was pulling me under, sheltering me from what was about to happen.
Cash would find me like this.
Tate would see what the monster did to me.
I wouldn’t survive.
I heard Paul’s rapid breathing in my ear a second before the world went black and I passed out.
Chapter Thirty–Eight
Cat
The sound came from far away. Whaaack! Whaaack!
“Cat!” a voice roared followed by a swift kick to the door.
My eyelids lifted slowly. Pain exploded in my head and left cheekbone. I wasn’t sure how long I had been out but it hadn’t been long. Paul was still on top of me but he hadn’t done anything.
Yet.
“Fuck!” he swore when another solid kick landed on the door.
He was doing something. Fumbling. He couldn’t get it up and someone was trying to get in the room.
I wanted to shout for help but my jaw hurt and every time I swallowed, I tasted blood. I tried to focus. The room wavered in and out, making my stomach roll and my head spin.
“Goddamn it! Cat!” an angry voice bellowed on the other side of the door. “Answer me!”
The door shook on its hinges as another kick landed on it, angry and violent.
Cash! He was here!
I had to do something. Paul was distracted. Cash was right outside the door. I licked my dry lips and tried to yell but my head felt like it was going to burst and my lower jaw felt dislocated.
“This is bullshit,” Paul swore as Cash pounded on the door. He rammed my head down on the floor and shoved my legs apart when I locked them together.
Fumbling to push his jeans down further, he grumbled. “He can’t get in but I swear I’m getting in you, little bird, one way or another.”
Flattening his hand down on my head, he shoved my face into the floor and kneeled between my legs.
I let out a broken cry and struggled to crawl away.
Paul leaned over and covered my mouth with his hand. “Shh. Shh. It’ll only take a minute. Next time we’ll take our time and really play, I promise.”
Vomit heaved in me. I screamed against his hand and thrashed.
“CAT!” Cash roared.
The desperation in his voice propelled me. I bit Paul’s finger, chomping down on the meaty part as hard as I could. He shouted a curse and yanked his hand away.
As soon as my mouth was uncovered, I screamed. “Cash!”
A hard kick hit the door. The hollow wood shook. A cheap picture of a meadow fell to the floor and shattered.
I screamed again. “Cash! Help me!”
Another swift kick to the door had it flying open. It slammed back on its hinges and hit the inside wall.
“You son of a bitch!” Cash roared, charging into the room.
Paul scrambled off me. “Hey man. Hey man. She wanted it, I swear.”
He held up one hand and fumbled to pull his jeans up with the other.
A bellow burst from Cash. He flew at Paul and swung.
His knuckles connected with Paul’s face. Paul’s head snapped to the side. He teetered on his knees near me but shook off the hit and snarled at Cash. “She’s—”
Cash hit him again, shredding the skin on Paul’s cheekbone and rattling the teeth in his head. I had never seen him so vicious before or glimpsed such a fatal look in his eyes.
“I told you I would kill you,” he scowled, his knuckles bloody and raw as he swung again.
Paul grunted as the punch caught him on the jaw and snapped his head to the side again. He recovered quickly and spit out a tooth on the floor. “I’m not dead yet, motherfucker.”
He roared and dived for Cash. Cash hit him in the ribs with a hard blow but Paul wrapped his arms around Cash’s middle and took him down to the floor.
Before Cash could get up, Paul was on him. He hammered away at Cash’s ribcage, his fists flying nonstop.
Cash tried to curl his body inward and protect his bruised and broken ribs but Paul laid into him like a professional, pummeling him.
My limbs shook and every part of me hurt but I pushed myself up. I had to help Cash. He was hurt and bloody. Paul had the upper hand.
I pushed myself to my feet unsteadily. The room spun and my head ached. Paul didn’t notice me. He was too busy nailing Cash’s face. “She’s my little bird! Mine! Get your own!” he screamed.
A thick strand of his hair fell across his forehead as he hit Cash again and again. A wild look was in his eyes. He started talking incoherently but his fists were spot on. “Mine! Mine!”
Blood burst from Cash’s nose. He fought, catching Paul in the ribs and spleen but Paul was a lunatic. A loose cannon on speed.
Cash grunted with each hit. I realized as I stood wavering on my feet, that he was taking the punches and not fighting back, letting Paul beat him to a pulp.
I took a wobbly step forward. What is he doing?
As I watched, he reached down and pulled a deadly looking blade out of his boot. He turned it over slowly in his hand as Paul pounded him.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
“She’s mine! She’s mine!” Paul shouted as he punched Cash.
Cash glared up at Paul, his bruised jaw hard and his face bloody. “You’re wrong, asshole. She’s mine.”
He thrust. The blade went deep into Paul’s kidney.
He howled and arched his body, reaching back for the knife. Blubbing like a baby, he sucked his lower lip in and out of his mouth and grasped the handle with a cry.
Cash crawled out from under him, bleeding, bruised, but far from weak. He got to his feet and stumbled to me.
“Go, Cat. Get out of here,” he said, grasping my arm and breathing hard.
I shook my head. My gaze flicked past him as Paul let out a hiss.
Like a bad horror movie with a villain that wouldn’t die, Paul squeezed his eyes closed and grimaced as he pulled the knife out of his back. Blood started running down his jacket and turning his jeans red.
He gulped and turned as white as a ghost but he wasn’t done yet. Still on his knees, he grasped the bloody knife and slashed out at Cash’s leg.
Cash darted back, inches from getting cut. Paul bellowed in frustration and lunged again. The knife made another wide arch through the air, almost grazing Cash’s stomach.
Shit! Shit! I have to do something! I glanced around the room – frantic and terrified. About to lose the lunch I never had. Then I saw it. The gun that Paul had set down by the door.
I flew across the room, ignoring the way my legs shook or how things went in and out of focus. My hip hit the small table. A knickknack fell off and shattered. I grabbed the gun and slipped the safety off. My hands were trembling and damp from fear.
From behind me came the
sound of a body hitting a wall. I swung around, the gun held out in front of me. Paul had Cash up against the wall, trying to bury the knife in his neck. The tip nicked Cash’s neck. A drop of blood appeared.
Cash grasped Paul’s wrist, keeping the knife from slicing his jugular. The tendons in his neck stood out in the struggle. His muscular body was pinned to the wall. His lip was bleeding and a cut on his cheekbone was dripping. One slip of the knife and he would die right in front of my eyes.
I didn’t think. I didn’t consider my options. I was going to save the man I loved.
I took three long strides across the room and stopped an arm’s length away from Paul. With a suddenly steady hand, I lifted the gun and pointed it at his head.
“Drop it, asshole.”
He froze. Sweat dripped down his face despite the cold. I ignored my own goosebumps and stared at him.
Glancing over at me, he smiled. “Hey, sweetie. Just give me a second and I’ll get to you.” He winked and turned his attention back to Cash.
Cash grabbed his arm and twisted. The sound of bone breaking was followed by the clink of the knife hitting the floor.
“OWWWW!” Paul screamed, cradling his broken arm and stumbling away.
Cash pushed off the wall and swung, striking him in the nose with a sharp, fast punch. Bone crunched. Blood spurted. Paul shrieked and grabbed his broken nose.
“Motherfucking bastard! I’ll show you!” Dropping his hand, blood pouring from his nostrils, he turned toward me and charged.
Shaking, I pulled the trigger. The gun kicked back in my hand, throwing me back. The bullet exploded from the end, deafening me.
The slug hit Paul in the chest with a sickening thud. He froze and looked down at the blood spreading on his shirt. I fell back a step, swaying. With one arm wrapped around his ribs, Cash grabbed me and held me steady. I watched – feeling like I was having an out of body experience – as Paul reached up and touched the hole in his shirt. He looked up at me with confusion and dropped to his knees.