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Mine.
“Leave her alone. You don’t need to do this,” I bellow, my voice hoarse from lack of water and too much shouting.
Grant chuckles.
“That’s where you’re wrong, kid. We paid for this sweet, sweet piece of arse, so we get to do exactly what we want to do. And right now, we’re going to take her for a test drive. And guess what? You get to watch. You all get to watch just in case anyone thinks for even one fucking second that she might belong to anyone else but us.”
“No, she’ll never be yours. Even if you do this. Her heart is mine.”
Evie’s eyes find mine as they move her closer to me, letting me know that my words are true.
My heart aches, my need to get to her, to protect her all-consuming.
Please be outside. Be fucking be outside,I silently beg.
Burn this place to the ground with us all inside it if you have to. Just fucking stop them from doing this.
“Such a shame to ruin this flawless skin with so many cuts and bruises.” At Peter’s words, my eyes drop from Evie’s to discover what he’s talking about.
My breath catches when I find her beautiful body littered with cuts and bruises. Nowhere near as bad as mine, but still worse than should ever be inflicted on her.
“No, please,” I beg like a pussy as they lift her from the ground and carry her even closer, laying her on the altar at my feet. “No. Let her go, don’t do this.”
Along with my pleas for them to stop, the sound of sobbing ripples through the church.
Without moving my eyes from Evie, I speak to Zay. “Bud, you need to close your eyes, okay?” His sniffle is the only kind of answer I get before he continues sobbing. But without being able to speak to me, I’ve no idea if he’s listened.
Risking a glance up, I find he’s curled himself up into a ball on the pew and has his eyes squeezed tight. I just wish he could cover his ears, too.
“Fuck, yeah. You were worth the money, sweetheart,” Peter groans before me, dragging my eyes back to my girl.
She’s on her back, her bound arms beneath her as they touch her. They’re gentler than ever thought I’d give them credit for, but it doesn't matter. I feel their unwanted touches right down to my soul.
I’ve experienced it enough in the past, as my grandfather was training me, to understand exactly how sick she feels right now.
“Evie, give me your eyes,” I command when I find hers closed, as if she’s submitting to her fate with these two disgusting men.
It takes her a few seconds, but finally, her eyelashes flutter open. Her eyes are flooded with tears as hands continue to paw at her. Her teeth grind, making her jaw pop with anger and despair, but there’s nothing either of us can do about it.
If I thought I was useless pacing back and forth in Harry Reid while trying to get back for her, then it was nothing compared to this agonising situation where she’s right there, right fucking there, and I can’t get to her. I can’t do anything.
The two men continue talking, but I zone them out, just like I hope Evie does as she stares deep into my eyes.
‘I love you,’ I mouth. ‘I love you so much. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’
It’s almost unbearable to stare into the pain that’s filling her eyes, but I don’t look anywhere else. I can’t. I need her to know that I’m here, and that I will continue to be here when this is over.
None of this changes anything for me.
Nothing.
The sound of fabric ripping makes my teeth grind so hard I’m amazed one doesn’t crack. But I still don’t look to see what they’re doing.
Evie’s body jerks in disgust, her eyelids lowering.
I do the same in warning.
Don’t you dare take those beautiful eyes from me, baby. I’m right there. Right by your side.
