Page 39 of Savage Salvation

What the fuck? My vision is blurred, and I blink, trying to clear my thoughts and brace for another hit, but it doesn’t come. A shadow looms over me as I look up.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, bitch,” Ryan seethes. His foot darts out, connecting with my stomach. He bends down, his mangled face over mine. His nose is taped up, his eyes black, looking over me. His hand reaches down, brushing over my face as I try to scoot away.

“Don’t touch me.” A wave of dizziness flows through me as I push away, kicking until my back is against the wall and I’m clumsily standing.

“I really thought it’d take more to get you here. But you did manage to stir shit up.” He points to his nose then holds up his arms where there are cuts and scrapes. “So you’re gonna pay … get ready because Mom and Dad are out for the night. Well, my parents are busy tonight. Yours never had a chance to show since they’re dead.”

Danielle. She was never here. “Get the fuck away from me.”

His menacing laugh is a complete contradiction to the banged nose and cuts over him. “Nah. It’s time you paid up. I’m sick and tired of being on the receiving end of your shit. So, we’re gonna have a little fun and get things back to how they should be.”

How things should be? “Stay away from me or I will kill you.”

“Kill me? That seems a little harsh being that I hadn’t planned to kill you. We need you around, Kins.”

“Go to hell,” I say, my fingernails digging into my palms as I look past him. That’s the direction I need to go. I need to get downstairs. The only other staircase is clear across on the other side of the house, but something tells me that’s the way I should go. I take a step back, still feeling the dizziness from the cheap shots he got in. Motherfucker caught me off guard. It won’t happen again. But I need to get out of here now.

His grin grows when he sees my feet stepping back. “You’re not going anywhere. Our company will be here in a little while.” He steps in my direction.

I turn, racing down the hallway, but he catches me, his hand in my hair, jerking me back. My hands claw at the hold he has in my hair, but it does no good. Turning, I swing at him, seeing his bandaged face, I thrust my palm up, smashing into his nose.

His grip immediately releases me as I take off in a full sprint, but just as I’m about to reach the front door, he charges from the side, tackling me to the floor as he lands on top of me. He grips my head, smashing it against the marble. I try to fight the unsteadiness, fight against his hold, but it’s too much.

The next thing I know, he has my hands bound. I kick at him, swing as he drags me, kicking and fighting, down the hallway. He shoves open a door leading to one of the extra bedrooms. When the door opens, the sight is more frightening than the one who arranged it. There’re red rose petals scattered along the floor and bed.

“I had a main course set up for us but since you’re being such a difficult cunt, we’re skipping straight to dessert.”

He jerks the binding on my wrist, hauling me next to the bed where he leans over, fastening the ropes to the metal footboard.

No. I have to get free.

I shift forward, coming down on him as my mouth clamps on his shoulder biting as he shoves me back. I lose my footing but quickly regain, running for the door.

A grip clasps around my ankle, hauling me back as my feet come out from under me. My face hits the floor, and I’m unable to get my hands around to brace my fall.

Ryan grips the binding, pulling me the few feet back to the bed. His knee comes up to connect with my face as he fastens the binding. He moves to the side, grabs something, then shifts in front of me. A knife. And he has the blade to my throat.

I’m trapped.

And I know I should stay quiet. I can even hear my mom telling me that sometimes not speaking speaks louder. But she’s not here. She didn’t know a beast resided under the roof she left me entrusted to.

“You’re gonna have to kill me.”

The pressure from the blade increases, poking against my skin. But his devious look grows, his eyes dropping to my chest.

“Why would I put you out of your misery when the fun is just getting started?” He takes my T-shirt, pulling it away from my skin as the knife slices the material while he hastily shreds every piece clinging to me until it falls to the floor. His hands extend forward, the blade between my breast, slipping between the material of my bra as it moves over my skin. Suddenly, he jerks the knife to him, slicing through the fabric. His eyes drop to my bare breasts, his free hand reaching forward, pinching my nipple and twisting. The burning continues as he does the same to the other one. Nothing but pure bliss on his face.

He’s literally insane. There’s no other explanation. And as much as I’d like to use the knife to cut his dick off, he has me at his will right now. “Let me go. And I won’t say anything.”

His head drops back, his face looking up as he chortles for at least a minute before he looks to me. The laughter instantaneously dissipates, morphing to a hard-as-stone glare.

Fast as lightning, his hand strikes, slapping across my cheek. Blinking, I try to regain my bearings, but I can’t. My stomach heaves as I cough, the taste of blood dripping into my mouth.

“You’re gonna be a good girl. And no one will hear about this. We will make sure of it.” We. Who is we?

A sharp pain rings through my head, my mind fuzzy as I hear his words, feel him unbuttoning my jeans then removing them. A wave of nausea mixed with panic moves through the pit of my stomach as I struggle to free my hands. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.

“It sure as fuck is happening.” I didn’t realize I’d spoken aloud until the words are repeated back to me, punctuated by a hard hit to my stomach.