With my heart in my throat, I shove open the door, dropping my purse in my haste to get inside. Whipping around, I attempt to slam it closed, but at the last second, Corey slides his foot in the crack, stopping the door in its tracks.
“Shit.” I swallow hard, throwing all of my weight against the surface, desperate to get it to close. “Corey, you need to leave.Now.” I take a deep breath, trying to control my erratic heartbeat as I say, “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing. Please, just leave. We can forget all about this.”
For a moment, it’s quiet. But then Corey throws his weight against the door, and it bursts inward, throwing me backward onto the carpet.
Casually, Corey steps into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. “I knowexactlywhat I’m doing,” he says, turning to me with an expression I’ve never seen him wear before. It’s…evil.
“Leave me alone, Corey,” I say, hoping my voice sounds braver than I am. “Please. Don’t do this.”
“You and I both know you don’t want me to leave.” He steps closer with a smile, his eyes dark and predatory. As he advances, I struggle to my feet, backing up against the far wall. My eyes dart around the room wildly, searching for something to defend myself with as he corners me, caging me against the wall with his arms on either side of my head.
Corey leans in, his eyes lowering to my lips as he whispers, “You’re going to give me what I want, Grace.”
“Like hell I will. You fucking disgust me.” I shove hard against his chest. “Get off me.”
“Or what?” His mouth tips in a smirk. “You’llscream?”
My lips part to do just that, but before I can release it, Corey slaps his hand over my mouth, cutting off my oxygen. I attempt to bite his fingers, but he holds them just out of reach.
His grip tightens painfully, and I wince. In a last-ditch effort, I shove my knee upward, but he anticipates my attack, stopping me just before I manage to make contact.
“Stop fighting,” he orders, “Don’t pretend you don’t want this. You’ve wanted me to dick you down since the first day we met.”
He leans down to my neck, and bile rises in my throat as he drags his tongue over my skin. Utterly repulsed, I try to pull free in one last desperate attempt, but Corey holds firm, keeping me pinned to the wall.
With his free hand, he reaches down, ripping the towel from my body in one fluid movement. The cold air hits my still-damp skin, and I shiver, which Corey mistakes for a sign of excitement.
“That’s better. I knew you’d give in.”
My eyes widen as he pulls my bikini top to the side and cups my bare breast—and the sensation of his skin against mine makes me gag. His hand moves down my stomach as a single tear trails down the side of my face, matching his pace. I close my eyes, trying to go to a happy place—to try to pretend that this isn’t happening to me.
“That’smine.”
My eyes fly open as a deep voice fills the room, and the unnatural distortion makes my skin erupt in heated shivers.I’d know that voice anywhere. Seven.
My heart soars as I search the shadows over Corey’s shoulder, knowing deep in my soul that somehow, Seven has come to save me again. Before I can spot him, a pair of gloved hands curl around Corey’s shoulders, ripping him off me in one powerful movement.
I watch in quiet fascination as Seven throws Corey to the floor, unable to take my eyes off the bare muscles shuddering across his back. He straddles Corey’s chest, pulling a large hunting knife from a hidden holster on his ankle in the same movement.
The blade glints as he holds it high, using all of his momentum to shove it hilt-deep into Corey’s windpipe. Just as soon as it’s inserted, he rips it free, and dark red blood spurts from the wound, coating the man’s hands, and soaking the hotel carpet.
Corey lies there for several minutes, drowning in his own blood. Every couple of seconds, a wet, rattling noise pierces the silence, but it’s nothing compared to the pounding of those gloved fists connecting with Corey’s face—breaking skin, shattering bone, and pulling desperate wails out of the dying man.
Eventually, Corey stops moving, stops breathing. Seven leans back, allowing me to get a good look at the bloody mess that remains. I take one glance at the exposed muscle and bone, and my vision tunnels.
Using the wall for support, I lower to the ground, darkness overwhelming me, pulling me under. When I come to, Seven stands over me, his face full of worry and covered in splatters of blood. For the first time ever, he’s not wearing his mask.
Horror fills my veins as I stare up into a pair of cruel red eyes—eyes that I recognize.
The man crouching over me isn’t Seven. It’s my fucking boss.
“Archer?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
SEVEN
I stare down at Grace,heart pounding with glee, stomach churning with dread.She knows. It’s over.She knows.
