“Get in.”
I swallowed hard.
“No.”
I could practically see the adrenaline flood Mario’s system.
I’d watched it happen so many times that I knew exactly what would happen next.
He didn’t disappoint.
He moved fast, like lightning, and launched himself at me.
I got maybe two steps away when he caught me around the waist and threw me bodily into the car.
Small and curvy, I wasn’t necessarily a doll to be throwing around.
Yet, Mario picked me up and launched me inside the car like I weighed nothing more than air.
I hit the other side of the car door on the inside with a solid thud, my head connecting with the armored glass.
I cried out in pain as Mario climbed into the car on top of me, yanking me down so I was lying flat across the back seat.
I screamed and punched, kicked and bit, scratched and fought all to no avail.
He was bigger, stronger, and he’d done this before.
He knew what he was doing.
He knew how to subdue a fighting woman.
He knew what he needed to do to make me obey.
He caught my wrists and held them up high over my head.
I glanced a look to the side to see what Dario was doing and found him scrolling on his phone, bored.
As if he couldn’t care less that his brother was about to rape someone in the back seat.
I heard him turn on a video and laugh.
Anger surged inside of me, and a punch of adrenaline rocketed through me.
“Stop!” I screamed and pushed as hard as I could.
He went backward slightly and hit his head on the roof.
When he came back down, he was grinning and reaching for his pants.
“No!” I screamed. “Stop! No!”
His body was viciously yanked backward out of the open car door behind him. He hit the ground with a solid thump, and I gasped in shock at the large man standing over Mario’s prone body.
Coffee shop guy.
Dario, finally realizing something was wrong—well, wrong for him in terms of Mario not hurting me any longer—turned and surveyed what was going on outside the car.
He reached forward and caught his seat belt.
