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I rubbed my side as I tried to push myself up, as I tried to remember my training, get my wits about me. I still had a chance so long as I was in Cash's house, so long as I wasn't taken to a second location.
“Shoulda known you'd shack yourself up with some man. Trading pussy that belongs to me for protection.”
That was when the anger kicked in, heady, so strong I finally understood the term 'seeing red', because my vision was tinted in it.
“That's where you fucked up, Damian,” I growled, getting to my feet, ignoring the slight shooting pain up my side. In response, I got a brow raise. “I don't need a man to protect me,” I said and flew at him.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was screwed. I knew our training was about matched and he had the advantage of six inches in height and a solid hundred pounds of merciless muscle. I also didn't have the flinch factor- the fact that most men who found themselves in a fight against a woman, no matter how big and bad they were, would hesitate, would flinch. It gave me the chance to challenge, to get the better of them. I had five years of proof that Damian didn't flinch.
So, yeah. I was screwed.
But damn if I was going to cower, to let myself get beat by him again.
I was going to put every bit of myself into the fight. I was going to make him hurt.
I got a hook to his ribs and a knee to his groin before he got me, flinging me hard at the wall and I watched in a fascinated kind of horror as my blood dripped down Cash's dining room wall.
“So you gave him my pussy just because you're a slut, is that it?” He growled, grabbing me by the ends of my hair, twirling, and twisting.
I pressed my lips together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my cries, then, “Newsflash, Damian... it's my pussy and I've been sharing it with any man I want for the past thirteen years. And guess what? They, unlike you, could actually make me come.”
“Stupid cunt!” Then I was slammed against the wall hard enough for my vision to waver in darkness for a second. The crack was accompanied by an immediate and skull-splitting migraine.
Despite it (and quite frankly sure it couldn't possibly hurt any more than it already did), I threw my head back, cracking him in the mouth and swung out from him and made a grab for my bag, rummaging around until I found my gun and pulled it out. I swung around, arm raised, to have my wrist grabbed and twisted until it cracked and he grabbed the gun and tossed it.
Shit.
That was really my only chance.
“I should drag you upstairs to his bed and fuck you there until he gets home.”
I sneered. “He'd kill you,” I said simply, knowing to my marrow that it was the truth.
“Please... some weakass biker...”
“You've obviously never seen him in action. He'd take you.” It was mostly bluster. I honestly had no idea who would win if they were matched up. They both had their strengths. Cash might have the advantage of not letting his rage get to him, of battling cold. But other than that...
“Don't worry. He's gonna get what's coming to him,” he grinned and I felt sick satisfaction seeing the blood staining his teeth.
Fuck.
I didn't consider that. I didn't think I was putting Cash in any kind of danger. There was no way I could let him get hurt because of me. He had been nothing but good to me and I had done my best to be a bitch.
That was what he was going to remember about me.
I had no delusions about my future- it wasn't going to be a very long future. I was going to die, slowly, painfully. And that was going to happen soon.
I would never get another chance to let Cash see a better side of me.
All he would have to remember me by was my snippy-ness and the sex. Hell, he would probably find another chick in an afternoon and forget about the sex too.
There was nothing I could do about that now.
Hopefully he found something decent to remember me by.
“Now you're going to be a good girl and go to my car with me.”
Ha. Fat chance.
“Like hell,” I smirked, charging at him.
From there... it was just blow after blow, the shocking jarring of my fist colliding with his bones, and the almost blinding pain of his fists in my face or busted ribs. It didn't take much for me to get pinned. Two, three minutes tops and I was trapped under his weight, his body pressing so hard into my chest and abdomen that I couldn't draw a proper breath.
“It's gonna take some time to break this spirit of yours,” he grunted , grabbing my hands when I reached up to claw down his face and pinning them over my head. “But, trust me, wife, I am looking forward to it.” He shifted both of my wrists into one of his palms and brought the other hand down to my throat. “Starting now,” he said, pressing down and cutting off what little air supply I had. “We're gonna keep doing this until you agree to get up and walk to my car like the obedient little bitch you used to be.”
If he was going for cooperation, he was going about it the wrong way, reminding me of how powerless I used to be under his control.
As such, he got six times, six times of completely cutting off my air supply until my face went tingly and numb and I felt oblivion start to pull at me, only to have him pull away at the last possible second and force my consciousness back.
“Fine,” I gasped, the sensation of razor blades down my throat with each swallow. What was the point of resisting? Cash hadn't been gone that long; he could be gone for hours more. The chances of him charging in and helping me were slim to none and the way things were going, I'd have been too weak to pitch in in a fight and it would just be Cash and Damian. Both had reason to want to kill each other. Either could win. I couldn't put him in that situation. It was better to do what Damian wanted.
