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Baldy’s palm struck me across the cheek, bringing tears instantly to my eyes. I refused to let them fall, though.
Instead, I just looked straight up at Isiah’s henchman. “Fuck. You.”
A devious grin came across his face, and he leaned over the bed, his hand going to my throat. I grabbed his wrist, trying to tear it away as he squeezed and squeezed a little tighter with each second, cutting off my air supply. I gasped, trying to suck in more oxygen as my body battled against him, fighting back, kicking and scratching but not making him give up anything.
“Kero, cut it out, man. Isiah wants her as unharmed as possible,”Henchman Twoordered as he leaned against the wall.
Kero grinned widely before letting me go and sitting back.
I coughed, rolling onto my side on the bed, trying not to vomit as I struggled to breathe, dry-retching over and over again.
“You’re lucky, Meyah,” Isiah announced, stepping into the room while I was still vulnerable. I didn’t like it. I wanted to put my back against a wall so I knew I had at least a fighting chance of protecting myself. But I was still struggling to breathe. “I’ve got someone interested before I’ve even gotten around to putting your pictures up.”
The bed dipped beside me, and a hand grabbed a fist full of my hair, yanking it back uncomfortably and forcing me to look up at him.
“Be a good little bitch and smile when he comes in,” he ordered. “Nobody wants a moody little cunt, that’s far more work than needed.”
He climbed off the bed, his hand still in my hair, and pulled.
I screamed, trying to grab the sheets but not able to get a hold of anything as I was pulled off the edge of the bed and down on to the hard wooden floors, pain vibrating through my hip and thigh as I landed directly on it. My hands pulled at his wrists where he held my hair as he dragged me from this bedroom, down the hall, and into some kind of separate living area.
Tears streaked down my face as I was pulled past room after room, catching flashes of half-naked girls, men in business suits, and guys with guns.
The pain was excruciating.
I felt like my hair was being torn out strand by strand from my head.
But I also didn’t want him to think he was winning, I didn’t want him to think I would even lay down and play a good little girl, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let somebuyerthink that.
I was going to raise hell, make it appear I was uncontrollable, that I wouldn’t be silenced, and that I would be too much trouble.
I needed time.
Because I’d been knocked out for so long—I had no idea what day it was, whether it was morning or night, or even where the hell I was.
I knew Ham would be looking for me. That my uncle wouldn’t rest until he found me. And that Ripley was going to lose his shit when he found out what they’d done to Huntsman.
My body slammed into the back of a sofa, and the tension on my hair was released.
“Get her up, have her looking pretty for when he comes in,” Isiah ordered.
Another man grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet and dragging me toward a sofa that looked like it was straight out of the Queen’s palace. The floral pattern was pretty, the shape of it more like a bed you would see in a shrink’s office for people to lay on.
He pushed me down onto it. “Try and look pretty.” My whole body screamed in protest. It wanted to rest. It wanted to just roll over and sleep. I couldn’t keep fighting them because they were stronger, and I was running low on energy.
I was going to have to do something. Something that would stall them. Maybe something which would make them lock me back up when the buy said no.
The buyer wants her as unharmed as possible.
I was already cringing at the thought of the pain, but if I could get him to hurt me, bruise me, split my lip or something, then maybe the buyer wouldn’t want me. Perhaps that would give the club more time.
Isiah walked over to the edge of the room where there was a small wet bar and poured himself a drink.
“Did your mom leave you on a street corner when you were a baby or something?” I asked loudly. The men who were standing on either side of me were ready to grab me if I ran stood a little taller, their eyes widening. “Because you have some serious control issues with women.”
Isiah chuckled softly as he continued to pour his drink.
Whiskey.
