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Reaching into my saddlebag, I grabbed my guns.
The familiar weight of them soothed something deep inside me. My hands curled around the butt of my guns. My grip tightened as an air of peace curled around me. Looking down the long dirt road, I heard his voice in my head. She needs you. Save her. Tell Jinx I love her.
“Okay man. I hear you,” I muttered to no one.
Tucking one of my guns in the back of my jeans, I held the other one in my right hand as I made my way down the long dirt road.
Thirty
Kali
No.
It couldn’t be him.
Shaking my head, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my face.
I knew John wasn’t going to let me leave here alive.
He wanted me dead. He tried back in New York City.
He almost succeeded, too.
“I should fucking kill you and save myself the aggravation, you worthless bitch.”
I gulped as he waved a knife at me.
“Do you know the fucking mess you’ve put me in? I have nothing!”
“John, please don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” he sneered. “All you had to do was fucking die, Kali and you couldn’t even do that.”
Grabbing me by my arm, John yanked me to my feet. Pressing the knife against the side of my face. “I should fucking gut you for making me come to the godforsaken place.”
I looked away when he leaned forward and licked the side of my neck.
“But first, I’m going to make sure that biker you’ve been fucking never touches you again.”
Before I could ask what he was talking about, he turned me around and pointed the knife against the small of my back, his hand on my shoulder as he walked me over to a small table I didn’t see before. He pushed the knife into me so much that he punctured my lower back. I cried out as I felt a little bit of blood run down my spine.
Pushing me towards the table, I got the message.
I wasn’t stupid.
I knew what he wanted, but I wasn’t the woman I was before. I wasn’t going to just lay there and let him have his way anymore.
Turning around, I screamed, “Stay away from me, asshole. I hate you!”
The back of his hand came flying at me, connecting with my cheek, knocking me to the floor. Before I could get up, his expensive loafers connected with my ribs, robbing me of air. I tried to curl up in a ball, to stop him from hitting and kicking me, but it was of no use.
He was bigger than me.
Stronger than me.
Pulling me by my hair, he flung me towards the table again, as my stomach made contact with the side, causing me to cry out again. I felt him behind me. Waiting.
As much as I wanted to fight him, I knew I would never win. I had four small children that needed me.
