Page 81 of Her Vengeful King


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″Fuck. I won’t go through this again!” I scream, the air in my lungs releasing a horrible shrill. The burning is intense as I suck in air.

Drake pushes on my head, trying to shove me through the frame. I don’t budge, as I push against his force. It’s a struggle for who has more endurance as I continue to hold my stance.

His foot kicks the back of my knee, toppling me forward. I fall on all fours and try to get up quickly, but I’m not fast enough. He pulls my hands behind my back and yanks me up.

Drake pants at the exertion of struggling with me. “Just. Fucking. Relax, Haley.”

Fear and pain from the injuries wash away as the adrenaline kicks in. I hone in on my military training. I need to get away from him.

Drake shoves me on the bed, straddling my waist. I force down the nausea as he leans forward to pull at my shirt.

His mouth presses against mine and he tries forcing his tongue inside. While he’s preoccupied, I grab the base to my phone charger from the nightstand.

The prongs may not be sharp, but with enough force, it can cause enough pain to give me time to escape.

I only have one shot at it, so it has to work perfectly. I focus on my breathing, stiffening my body so he can’t get my clothes off. Drake pinches his lips together, frustrated he can’t get me undressed.

″I wish you’d just listen, sweetie.” He leans forward, and I take that moment to drive the charging cube into his face. One prong catches him in the corner of his eye, the other drives into the bridge of his nose. When I release my hand, it stays lodged as he tumbles off the bed.

His screams of pain fill the room and I scramble to the floor. All I need is time. Time to get to the kitchen for a knife. Or to the door to escape.

My feet pound against the hard floor as I sprint across my bedroom. I barrel through open door, take the steps two at a time, and skid into the kitchen. I still don’t hear his footsteps, so I continue through the kitchen to get to the front door. The back door is closer but useless. It only leads to a small fenced-in yard. I’ve got no furniture out there, nothing to hide behind. I’m better off running barefoot in my pajamas and screaming for help. Maybe I could even hide somewhere in the park.

Anywhere is safer than here.

A loud banging sound comes from the entry closet.

I open the door slowly. Under the hanging coats and sweaters is Cillian tied up and bleeding. Rope binds his legs, his arms pinned behind his back.

I scan for the source of the blood when I catch his gaze. His mouth is gagged, so I don’t understand him as he tries to moan out something. Dropping to my knees, I pull the material in his mouth free.

″Get my phone from my pocket and get the fuck out of here. Call Scotty once you’re hidden in the park.”

″You’re hurt. I’m not going to leave you behind.”

″I’m fine, Haley. You need to go. Quickly.”

I open my mouth to argue with him when I hear the familiar creak of a stair being stepped on.

Cillian whispers in a hushed tone. “Run.”

A force inside of me doesn’t allow me to move a muscle, even though I decided to flee already. I bite my lip at the recognition.

I’m not a thirteen-year-old girl anymore. I’m a thirty-five-year-old woman with the skills to fight back. I have military and medical training, and most of all a backbone that I didn’t have as a child. I may not have been able to flee Jason, but Drake isn’t going to get away with it the same way he did.

″I see you found the Irish punk.”

I turn to face Drake. Blood drips from the bridge of his nose and he keeps his injured eye closed.

He lunges at me, but I move to the side. “You’re a police officer, Drake. You’re supposed to help those in trouble. Help women being hurt by men. Why are you doing this?”

My goal is to get to the kitchen, now. If I go outside with him so close, he’ll only drag me back inside before I find help. I step backward slowly so he doesn’t think I’m trying to get away from him. His pace matches mine as his brows furrow. With his chin pointed down, he looks possessed.

″This is just a game, sweetie.”

″When someone says no, it isn’t a game anymore.”

He pauses then shrugs. “Unless saying no is part of the game.”

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