There’s nothing funny about the laugh that escapes his lips or the look in his eyes. “I think now that I know how much he values you, I may breed you, Ms. Camryn Whitter Park. Our families and lineage are much more worthy of being joined. It’s still a marvel that you let him touch you. Your father would be sodisappointed. Does he know that you are playing the whore for a criminal?”
“Apparently, you’re no better,” I sneer, thinking about the scars on Cara’s body.
Again, he laughs, throwing his head back, as if our conversation is a joke. Then he nods soberly. “My other children won’t be as valuable as ours. I’ve never much cared about my descendants. But perhaps a son to carry on my work, or a daughter to use as a bargaining chip, might be worth the effort of caring.”
He caresses my belly, looking maniacal, and I thrash, trying to get away from him.
He laughs at my bodily refusal. “So you prefer, El Búho? You let him soil you, but you do not want me?”
“I’d prefer him every fucking time!”
He yanks my hair, holding a fistful, and I feel some of the strands come out at the root.
“You will be fun to break. I have told you not to curse.”
He climbs on top of me, straddling me, and I feel his erection push into my stomach. When he leans down, I turn my face away, keeping my mouth closed, but he uses my shackled arms to his advantage, gripping my jaw painfully, turning my head toward him. Our mouths are mashed together, his tongue trying to push past my lips and into my mouth. The pain increases, and tears come to my eyes. I gag at his smell, trying to throw him off my body.
I yank and strain, trying to kick, but he has me trapped beneath him, my legs are splayed. His weight on my body is too heavy. I can barely breathe, feeling like I’m being suffocated.
He gets off the bed, sweating. Rage pours off him. He opens his robe and I stare at his pale, slender body. His penis is small and pink. I look at his cock and frown, making sure he sees mydisgust. My lip is bleeding, and my face is throbbing from his slaps, but somehow it fuels my hatred of him. “It’s so small.”
He snarls and jerks at his penis. “You will regret your words, and your man will regret ever taking from me.” He leans over me and squeezes my breast painfully, before ripping my nightgown down the middle. I twist away from him as much as my shackles will allow. He continues tearing down until the nightgown is open, the edges shredded.
My stomach revolts when I watch him lick his lips, staring at my breasts. I beg in my mind for anything, something to happen. Someone to stop this.
The bite into my upper chest is nothing like Stone’s soft bites. The pain is excruciating, feeling like he took a chunk of flesh. He straddles me and slaps me over and over. Bitch. Whore. The words keep coming along with the blows to my face. Pain explodes in my eye.
He pulls out a knife, and genuine fear grips me. It’s not like with Stone. This man means to rape and kill me. He punctures my skin, tiny stabs that are painfully vicious. I cry, sobbing for him to stop, but he laughs, biting my breast. The pain leaves me breathless. When he raises his mouth, his lips are coated in blood, my blood. I buck against him, but nothing helps. The tiny stabs continue, along with the bites to my belly. My upper thigh. When he raises his head, steps away, and starts jerking off his penis. In horror, I watch, bracing for the inevitable.
I sob, and he laughs.
His weight is suffocating. I feel his penis and I twist my body, desperate, knowing that any second he will penetrate me, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t.
Chapter 76
The smooth way my knife moves through the skin and muscles of his neck makes me shiver in delight. I lower the guard’s body to the ground and step over him, not making a sound. It’s as though I’m operating on automatic, urged on by the knowledge that I have to get to her. I can feel her.
Onyx is taking care of the other two men outside. The last one with my blood on his hands revealed that there are seven women inside the house, one of them being mine. I asked if there was a woman with long black hair inside, and he nodded before I sliced his throat too. He was too young, no more than 21 if I had to make a guess. A fucking waste, but he’s protecting evil, misguided, but still party to the horrors that have probably happened to the seven women living here.
I’m going to destroy every last one, especially him. He’s somewhere in this house. The low static of Riggs’s voice comes through the earpiece in my ear. “There are two women in the first room moving freely. Same for doors two and three. Found her.” My body holds still. He’s using two thermal drones that can detect heat signatures. “There is movement in the largest room.Only one body, horizontal on the bed. From the intel. He keeps new women separate. It’s Camryn. Last door.”
My heart beats faster. I’m going to enjoy killing this bastard. I wait for Riggs’s signal that he looped the camera feed and turned off the alarms, buying me time before they realize I’m inside. “You have six minutes. Go.” I open the unoccupied door, and I slip inside. The uproar will start soon, and I need to use the six minutes I’m given. I ease inside, and I survey the two guards sitting in the luxurious living room. Their backs are turned to me, and they don’t notice me climbing the stairs. It feels too easy, like a trap, but I don’t care. I have to get to her. I count each door, not bothering to stop until I reach the last door. It’s a double door, and it gives me some coverage. A door opens, and a woman walks out. Her eyes widen, and I raise a finger to my lips and motion for her to go back inside.
She nods and closes the door.
Hopefully, they will stay away from the doors and hide. I check my time. Four minutes. Panic sets in as I clutch my gun. The scream that comes from down the hall makes me move faster, as a slapping sound follows and everything in my rebels. Another scream erupts. Her.
When I kick open the door, my blood runs cold. The bastard is holding Camryn in front of him, and there is a mad gleam in his eyes. He’s naked, and the night gown she’s wearing is ripped to shreds, her nude body exposed. She’s bleeding from the neck and her breast, and every part of her is covered in blood. I can see the wounds on her neck pulsing with blood. Her face is unrecognizable; one of her eyes is swollen shut, and her cheek is puffy. His hand is so tight around her mouth that I know her jaw will bruise.
The man I’ve hunted most of my adult life is not what I was expecting. I expected him to be more intimidating, taller, andmore fit. He looks like a child even though I know him to be in his late forties, but it doesn’t matter. I am going to kill him.
“I knew you’d come.”
I point my gun, my voice utterly calm. “Get your hands off her.”
“I don’t think I will.” He trails his knife down her naked body, and when he draws the knife around her nipples, she sobs, her open eye locked on me. She looks both angry and terrified. “I could cut off these pretty nipples. I doubt you would want her then.”
“I’d want her no matter what,” I correct him, knowing it’s true. She’s mine, whole or broken. Always.
