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“Come sit on it,” he murmurs, his finger sliding harshly in and out of me.
“Vaughn,” I whimper. “No sex.”
He yanks his finger from me. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because. I’m not ready.”
“Well, I’m beyond ready,” he grits out, his hand striking at me like a snake. I’m shocked when he grips my throat. His grip is so tight that I abandon touching him to try and claw at his wrist so he’ll stop choking me. I’m stunned at his aggressive behavior. He’s always been so good to me.
His grip tightens as he pushes me down on his sofa. All of my focus is on the fact that he’s cutting off my air supply. I slap at his face to get him to stop. Blackness eats at the edge of my vision. My world tilts and spins.
And then explosive pain.
I black out completely as my mind shuts down.
He’s inside me.
That’s my only thought as I begin to lose consciousness.
I’m roused by a slap to the face. He’s no longer choking me but he’s very much fucking me. The pain is intense but I don’t know what to do. I’m at his mercy. This man—whom I was falling fast and hard for—is raping me.
He starts kissing me but I’m limp. I can’t participate. I’ve crawled so deep inside myself that I’m just a shell. That is until he reaches between us. His finger starts massaging my clit in a way that has confusing thoughts rippling through me. Zings of pleasure dart through me despite my tears that won’t stop rolling out. What were tiny zaps soon turn into full-on ripples of bliss.
I’m enjoying this.
It feels good.
A self-loathing begins to fester inside me.
Who enjoys being raped?
This time, when he kisses me, I find myself kissing him back. I’m losing myself inside of him. This world of his. His darkness.
“There she is,” he purrs. “So beautiful. You belong to me now, babe.”
His words seem to tip me over the edge. I’m spiraling out of control. The pleasure he’s giving me outweighs the bad, and I greedily accept it. I moan and beg like a whore.
No more begging him not to.
All that comes out of my mouth is, “Don’t stop.”
Don’t stop.
Tears of shame leak from my eyes as I selfishly latch onto my orgasm. I ride the waves of pleasure with his name a scream on my lips. And before I’m even off my high, he slides out and comes all over my belly.
“I knew you’d love it,” he says in a playful tone that used to be sexy. Now it makes my blood run cold.
“Y-You shouldn’t have done that,” I murmur. “That was rape.”
He strokes my hair from my sweaty forehead and frowns. “When you come like that and beg for it, it’s not rape. Sorry to burst your bubble, sweetheart.”
Confusion washes over me.
I did like it toward the end.
I orgasmed.
“Oh.”
“Time to take you home,” he snaps. “I won’t be accused of being a fucking rapist.”
Tears well in my eyes, and I shake my head. Maybe I am being crazy. “I want to stay with you,” I tell him boldly despite the quiver in my voice.
His jaws clench. “Don’t ever fucking tell me no again.”
I’M JERKED from my memory when I hear a pop.
Vaughn, who still looms over me, ready to take what he thinks belongs to him, widens his eyes in confusion. The moment we hear another pop, he’s leaping off the bed and jerking on clothes.
“What have you done?” he snarls. His glare is vicious enough that I almost feel bruised by it.
Be brave, Violet.
Be brave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HAWK
EYES ON TARGET.
Always.
I don’t have to watch my back because Bull has it.
Always.
Sniper and spotter.
Two best friends since the seventh grade.
“Both of his men are down. You still got eyes on your girl?” Bull questions as he smacks his gum.
I don’t answer but I do have eyes on her. My eyes never leave her if I can help it. The target, who was positioned to rape my woman, jerks off the bed. He quickly yanks on his pants and is pointing to her in accusation.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
A cool breeze skitters across the back of my neck. Sweat is trickling down the side of my temple but I don’t dare move. Instead, I’m calculating the wind not just up here from my position on the top of a hill across the road but also where my target is at. The wind picks up and thunder rumbles in the distance.
Click.
I make an adjustment to the windage turret.
“Elevation?” Bull questions as if I’d forget. I never forget.
I double-check the elevation turret, but it’s where it needs to be. Bull doesn’t require an answer. He knows how we work. When I’m in position, I don’t speak. I don’t move. I hardly fucking breathe. Any movement could affect my shot. I absolutely cannot afford to miss. I will not miss.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The target keeps moving. I keep adjusting.
Click. Click. Click.
Adjust.
My sights have moved slightly to accommodate my target. A target that is almost clear.
Focus.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
“Stay still motherfuck—” Bull starts.
When my sweet naked girl lifts her chin and says something to him that makes him tremble with rage, I take my shot.
Despite the suppressor on my rifle, the crack echoes off the homes around me the moment I pull the trigger.
“We have to go,” Bull growls.
I blink once and watch the target fall face down onto the bed. He’s unmoving, a deadly head wound causing blood to rush from his skull.
Target eliminated.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
VIOLET
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” Vaughn accuses again.
He’s in a furious rage that would have once scared me, but I’m not afraid anymore. Gray asked me to be brave. Gray knew this would happen.
“The answer was always no,” I hiss at him. “You were never allowed to take from me. And now you’ll pay.”
Another pop.
My eyes close for just a moment, and then Vaughn’s attacking me. I screech and wriggle but halt my movements the moment hot blood gushes over my bare chest. When I reopen my eyes, I’m both horrified and elated in one single breath.
He’s dead.
Vaughn Brecks, the monster from both my nightmares and reality, is nothing more than a blown out skull sitting on an unmoving body. It baffles me how one moment the room is rippling with evil and the next moment it’s completely snuffed out.
He’s heavy, but I manage to push him off me.
My mother cries out in a raspy voice from down the hallway. On shaky legs, as blood drips down my naked body, I make my way to her room. Sadness washes over me the moment I see her frail form curled up in the bed. When she sees me, she reaches out to me as if she’s trying to hold onto a dream that’s quickly slipping through her fingertips.
“Momma,” I sob as I wobble over to her. I crawl into bed next to her as we frantically hug one another.
“Y-You’re really here,” she cries. “He told me you were coming, but that I wouldn’t live long enough to see you. Oh, baby girl.”
“H-He said he would kill you. That’s w-why I l-l-left all those y-years ago,” I stutter out through my tears.
“Shh, honey. Shh. You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” she coos.
I’m still hugging her when two strong arms grab at me from behind. I start screaming like a wild banshee but then fall limp when I smell him.
Gray.
He came for me.
He killed the monster just like he promised.
