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“Shut up,” I moaned, rolling onto my side, cupping my head. The pounding in my head was rattling my teeth. It was making me sick. It needed to stop before I threw up everywhere.
“Oh, thank God, Tessa. I thought they killed you. You need to wake up, honey.”
“Go away.”
“No please. They’re coming. I tried to tell Robbie you weren’t like the others, but he wouldn’t believe me. All he kept saying was how you we’re going to make him a lot of money.”
“Where am I?”
“In a warehouse near the ports,” Megan said, before the door slammed open, causing a loud bang.
Cringing, I held my head, stifling a moan.
“Get her naked, Megan.”
“Robbie, I’m telling you. She isn’t like me. She’s belongs…” Megan tried to say before I heard a loud slap, then she cried out.
“Fucking useless bitch.”
Rough hands that grabbed me had me moaning as someone ripped and tore my clothes from my body. I knew what was going to happen. I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen many girls come into the emergency room when I was doing my residency. All told a similar story. Drugged, stripped naked, then raped. It was horrible, and I hated what they went through, but I never thought I’d be one of them.
Helpless to protect myself.
“What the fuck?!” Robbie roared.
Opening my eyes, I saw him pointing at my shoulder.
Oh yeah. I forgot about that.
I smirked. “Should have listened to her, asshole.”
My brand.
It had been so long ago I forgot about it.
“I told you!” Megan yelled, jumping across my body, protecting me. “I tried to tell you. She’s belongs to a Soulless Sinner. You touch her and you are dead!”
“Fuck,” he growled. “Get her the fuck out of here. I don’t want any troubles with the Sinners.”
“Too late motherfucker.”
I heard the familiar growl right before I heard the retort of a gun. Megan screamed bloody murder, causing my head to explode in excruciating pain as darkness surrounded me once more.
I woke sometime later in a comfortable bed. Turning my head, I saw Montana sitting in a chair, feeding York. Smiling, I went to move, only to find myself handcuffed to the bed. Yanking on the restraints, I looked back at Montana. “Montana? What’s going on?”
“Locking you down until I get the image of you naked in that fucking rathole out of my head.”
“Let me go.”
“Do you know where you were? What that sick fuck was planning to do with you?”
“I don’t remember much because he drugged me. Now let me go.”
“When I saw you laying on that flea infested bed, stripped bare, I thought I lost you forever. You were supposed to be at home taking care of our son. Instead of considering my proposal, I come home to find my woman in a fucking whorehouse on pier eighty-three. Do you know how that made me look? That I couldn’t control my woman?”
What the fuck?
Was he mad at me?
