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Finally, tired of his silence, she asked, “What do you want? If it’s money, I can give you my card and pin and you can just go—”
“Shut up. I don’t want your money, whore.”
Whore?
Panic settled into her gut. God, if Will had been the one to throw a brick through the window, then she really had ruined Asher’s life.
But she didn’t want to accuse him of anything, so instead, she tried to remind him who she was. That she was a person.
“I’m not a whore. My name is Rylie Templeton. I’ve lived in Sweetheart all my life. Both of my parents are dead—”
“I said shut up,” he shouted.
Pain exploded across her cheek as he backhanded her, knocking her off the chair. She hit the floor hard, crying out as her shoulder popped.
Losing her calm, she screamed, “I don’t understand! If you want to kill me, then just get it over with!”
He lifted her off the ground and back into the chair.
“It’s not always about what you want. I know you think that we should worship the ground you walk on, but whores are only good for one thing.”
Rylie watched in horror as he adjusted himself through his pants, and did what she did best.
She pulled her legs up and kicked him so hard in the jewels that he flew back, smacking into her kitchen cabinet.
And the chair fell back, her head cracking against the wall.
Then she felt nothing at all.
* * * *
Dustin came in through the laundry room just as he heard two crashes. With the hammer he’d found out back in his hand, he came around the corner, ready to bash the bastard’s head in.
He lowered the hammer as he looked down at Will in a ski mask, crying and moaning on the floor.
Then he spotted Rylie.
Every instinct told him to rush for her, to make sure she was all right, but he needed to take care of Will first. He’d already called the cavalry, which should have been pulling in any second.
He hauled Will to his feet and planted a hard-right hook in the middle of his face. The guy slumped to the ground, and Dustin dragged him into the living room, where he found a gym bag full of twist ties, knives…
Condoms.
Dustin resisted the urge to pound the guy into meat. He bound his legs and hands with zip ties behind his back and added a bit of duct tape for good measure. Once he was sure he wasn’t going anywhere, Dustin raced back to the kitchen.
“Rylie, sweetheart, talk to me.” He kneeled next to her and cupped her cheek. “Please, be okay. Help is on the way.”
Sirens wailed down the driveway as the kitchen lit up blue and red.
“Do you hear that? They’re already here.”
Then he heard her voice, hoarse and soft.
“About time.”
His laughter broke as he lifted her into his arms and held her tight
, rocking with her as uniforms burst through the door.
