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“Brett, I asked you to leave,” I snap, turning my face away from him as he tries to lean into me and begins untucking his shirt from his pants . . . the shirt that I bought for him.
He grabs my jaw and forces my face back to his, and I look up into his dark eyes. “You’re. Fucking. Mine.” he growls.
“Get out,” I cry, hoping Sophie can hear me, but I know it’s no use because she would be well and truly passed out by now. Trying my hardest to get out of his grasp, I squirm against him, but I’m too small and he’s far too strong. He must have spent the last year working out.
He laughs at my attempts and runs a hand down the side of my body, grasping my breast with force. I cry out in pain, knowing it will leave a bruise. “Yeah, I knew you would like that. You’re such a fucking whore.”
A whimper escapes me as I realize what’s about to happen. He leans down and kisses the side of my face, working his way to my neck and leaving a nasty trail of saliva behind as his hand reaches down to release his belt buckle. His free hand slips into my shirt and grasps my tit, pinching down hard on my nipple, causing me to flinch in pain.
A tear slides down my face as I continue trying to push him away. With his dirty cock free, he presses his erection up against my stomach while his other hand cups me between my legs.
“Please, just leave,” I beg. “I’m with someone else now.”
He leans back from me and slaps me hard across the face. “No. You’re mine, not his,” Brett snarls, rage blooming in his stare.
His hands find the waistband of my shorts and begin making their way inside. I feel his fingers roughly graze past my clit and force their way into my entrance. He pumps hard once, then twice when he’s ripped away from my body and thrown into the opposite wall, falling to the floor with a thump.
Miller stands between us, shaking in rage with a cold, haunted look in his dark eyes. He grabs Brett off the ground and forces him to his feet by the collar of his shirt, holding him in place while he lunges out with a right hook and knocks Brett to the ground again. He jumps straight at him and proceeds to lay into him until he’s out cold.
Miller makes a quick call as my body slumps to the floor with relief. A loud sob escapes me, and I’m suddenly wrapped in the safety of his arms. “Shhh,” he soothes as I cry into his chest. He runs his fingers through my hair and studies the red mark on my face.
We sit there for the next ten minutes until a cop car pulls up, followed by Tank’s truck.
Tank immediately takes in the scene before him and a snarl comes ripping up his throat. He looks me over, studying every inch of my body. “Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.
I give him a small nod as Miller promises to explain everything in the morning. Tank makes his way into the house and heads toward the kitchen, letting us know he’ll stay up if we need him.
The two officers get out of the car and come to inspect the situation. “Good evening,” the first officer says. “I’m Officer Wilson, and this is my partner Officer Samuels,” he says, conducting introductions.
Miller helps to pick me up off the floor as the officers begin their questioning. They call for an ambulance and I’m thankful that Brett is finally taken away. The officers come inside and take a seat in the living room as Miller goes over his version of the night. They give each other a look when Miller gets to the part where he knocked Brett out, and I hope it has no impact on his future.
“Thank you,” Office Samuels says, then turns her green eyes on me. “Miss . . .?”
“Danielle,” I answer.
“Danielle, do you mind going over what happened here tonight?”
I give a slight nod and decide the full story will be best. I ask Miller to grab my phone from the doorway as I begin telling the officers about my history with Brett. Once Miller returns, I show them the messages I’ve been getting from him over the past few months. Miller’s back stiffens as message after message is shown, and I know he’s going to want to have a serious chat about this.
I give them every detail of the night with tears spilling from my eyes.
“Now, Danielle, we suggest you come down to the station and press charges. I’d also suggest a restraining order,” Officer Samuels says.
I look over to Miller who gives me a firm nod. He’s in total agreement with the officers. “Okay,” I say. “Does it need to be now or can I come down in the morning?”
