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And I just happen to be the loose end.
FUCK.
Where the hell is Dani?
Christian lets out a booming laugh. “You don’t think my surveillance has facial recognition software?” he says as he gets to his feet. “I’m a motherfucking tycoon, Sophie. The biggest name in the industry. You don’t think I’m out here protecting my interests?”
My heart pounds as the men continue getting closer, and I start to back up. “You need to leave,” I demand, my hands shaking at my sides.
“In due time,” Christian says with a sick smirk.
Fuck.
I take off like a bat out of hell. If only I can make it to the door, I’ll be able to call for help.
My feet pound against the tiles, racing through my home as fear rocks through me. I grip my stomach as I fear for my baby’s life, certain that this is the end for both of us. Christian isn’t going to let this go with a slap on the wrist. He’s coming for blood.
I see the door down the end of the long hallway, but a hand latches around my forearm and yanks me back with an incredible force, pulling me right up off my feet.
Screams tear from my throat as I’m thrown down to the cold tiles flat on my stomach. Pain grips me, but I don’t have time to focus on it as fingers curl around my ankles and begin dragging me back into the living room.
I claw at the floor, trying to find purchase on anything to try and get out of his vicious hold. My stomach aches, but I can’t allow myself to think about it yet. I need to get out of here, need to make sure my baby is okay. A hand grips into the back of my hair and I’m yanked to my feet as I try my hardest to fight against his hold, but it’s no use. My strength has nothing on his.
Christian Baxter stands in front of me with his two henchmen at either of my sides. “Consider this your one and final warning,” he says before turning his back and walking away.
His men turn on me with sick smirks, and I see the decision in their eyes as they back me into a corner.
“Please, no,” I cry before a fist comes pummeling forward in an uppercut to my stomach. I scream in agony, desperate to cradle my stomach, but with my arms locked in this stranger’s firm grip, I have no choice but to suffer through the pain. Tears stream down my face, fearing for my little boy.
I beg over and over again for them to leave me and my baby alone. To finish their assault and let me be. But it goes on and on until every inch of my skin has thoroughly been beaten and my bones broken.
After what feels like a lifetime, they finally leave me in a heap on the ground with my blood spilled throughout the room. I consider trying to move across the room to call an ambulance, but I simply don’t have the energy. Curling myself into a ball with my arms protectively wrapped around my stomach, I weep in agony, wishing for the pain to go away.
My consciousness starts to slip away and I concentrate on my stomach, waiting to feel his little movements inside me as fear claims me, sending my world into darkness.
Chapter 9
TANK
Today has been one hell of a long fucking day, and it’s not even lunchtime yet. I’ve been a jittery mess of nerves waiting for this damn meeting. I shouldn’t be though, and that pisses me off. I should be confident. I’m the best damn player on this team. I’ve been here for five years, and about to embark on my sixth. I deserve it. Everyone knows it. Yet there’s this tiny seed of doubt in my mind.
It shouldn’t be there, but it is.
Nearly all the boys have shown up for this morning’s training session, taking advantage of the ice since we all have to be present for this compulsory meeting. It’s half past noon when the boys and I get off the ice, and I head into the locker room, stripping off my training gear before heading into the showers.
After cleaning up, I put a little extra effort into getting dressed. After all, if this is going to be my big shot, then at the risk of sounding like a pansy-ass motherfucker, I want it to be special.
I’m just finishing up when Miller joins me. “You ready for this, man?” he asks as he collects his phone from his locker.
“Fucking born ready.”
Miller gives me a goofy-ass grin, and I have to look away to avoid smirking back at him like a moron.
I jam my phone, keys, and wallet into my pockets as Coach Larsden comes striding into the locker room. “Conference room. Now,” he demands before turning away and stalking back out of the room without another word.
