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I ignore his question and the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. “How did you find me?”
“I tracked your phone, baby.”
I kick myself for forgetting to block his access to that information when Leo got me my new phone.
“And it’s a good thing I did,” he continues, and I jerk back when he caresses my cheek. “Someone has to tell your parents what you’ve been doing.” He grabs my neck before I can react, smashing our cheeks together. His teeth graze my skin as he speaks. “Or should I say, who you’ve been doing.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I struggle against him but he tightens his hold, catching my hair in his grip.
I whimper and he answers with a cruel smile.
“It’s none of your business, anyway,” I mutter, hating how vulnerable he’s made me.
“It’s my fucking business if a bitch like you refuses me and then spreads her legs for anyone and everyone in some seedy sex dungeon.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Explain it to me, then, Kyra.” But he barrels on before I can get the chance. “You act like you’re too good for me and then you go and throw your cunt at paying perverts.”
He yanks me out of my seat and presses me firmly against the side of the car. My mind revolts as his erection hardens against my stomach. A quick glance right and left confirms what I already knew, we’re alone. I shove at Tyler’s chest but I’m no match for the large frame caging me in.
I think back to that night outside the church, a mafia assassin on his knees in front of me. A similarly empty street, but an entirely different beast. The town’s golden boy is a rapist in the making, and a made man—the unhinged killer everyone fears—is my protector, my safe haven.
“Is that what it’s going to take?” he spits, digging into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. “Do I only get it if I pay for it?”
He uses one hand to pull the top of my dress down, the fabric whining in response. My arm is pinned next to my head when I try to right my clothes but I manage to clasp his other wrist as he lifts it to my chest. Not before he slips the bill roughly into the cup of my bra, though.
My nails dig into the flesh of his wrist, but it’s too late. I’m humiliated.
“You’re never getting anything from me,” I say weakly.
“We’ll see about that,” he says, lunging for me. His lips clash against mine in a bruising kiss, and he shoves his hips forward, driving my body against the cold metal.
He sees it in my eyes the moment I find my voice. I open my mouth to call for help and his hand crushes my throat, the other gathering my wrists in a biting grip and lifting them above my head. My spine stretches painfully at the motion.
“I’m getting what I came for. What you give to them.”
I try to speak, tell him he’s wrong, that I haven’t given anything to anyone. All that leaves my lips are breathy, gurgling sounds.
He just laughs, licking a path across my jaw to my ear. “It’s a pity we aren’t in there right now. I’m sure you’re just dying for an audience.”
His grip mangles my whimper.
The next second the hand around my throat is gone and I barely have time to suck in a breath before he’s ripping the cups of my bra down, exposing my nipples to the frigid air.
He makes a move for my underwear, ripping it from my body. I wince but manage to wriggle my hips underneath him, twisting sideways.
Forgetting about my wrists, his other hand rights my pelvis. I’m numb as he slams my lower back against the car, too focused on the opportunity he’s stupidly given me.
I swipe wildly at his face, my nails connecting with his flesh. He yells, clutching his eye and responds with a brutal backhand, hitting me smack across the jaw. I’m dazed for a beat but when I rise again, I don’t hesitate, taking the opening to knee him in the groin, watching him double over with a pained grunt. I yank open the door, locking myself in as my heart thuds relentlessly in my ears. I have a vision of him finding something to smash my window with and I’m suddenly screeching down the road, not having to waste precious seconds turning on the ignition. At least he planned to assault me while the car was still running.
I race back to Caligo, shucking the dress and my bra, and throwing them in the trash. I’m instantly lighter when the clothes that were infected with Tyler’s malice no longer cling to me. I pull on a pair of leggings and one of the soft cashmere sweaters Leo bought me. Fresh clothes should make me more comfortable but it’s not that simple. I stand in the kitchen, trapped in my skin, my head swimming with flashbacks. My attempts at clearing him from my mind only make the thoughts return with renewed force. My knuckles ache over the edge of the kitchen island.
I reach for my bag, the contents strewn across the marble from where I hastily threw it earlier.
My shoulders relax somewhat when my fingers curl around my phone. I find the number Leo gave me and move to the landline by the couch.
I don’t think, I just dial.
