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The men circled me and fought back, swinging wildly and stumbling in their drunkenness. One got me in the kidney. I broke his nose.
One of them was bigger than the rest. He looked like he could lift a car, but that didn’t deter me. “Your bitch was asking for it,” he spat.
Rage fueled me as I charged toward him, lifting my arm and delivering a sharp punch to his jaw. He stumbled back, shock etched on his face. “You really shouldn’t touch what doesn’t belong to you,” I said, my tone sinister.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my side. One of the men had pulled out a knife and was now wielding it toward me. I narrowly dodged a second strike and kicked him in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain.
But I wasn’t out of the woods yet. The other men were now closing in on me, and I knew that I had to act fast.
I bent down and swiped a nearby rock and sent it flying toward one of the men, hitting him square in the face. He staggered back, blood streaming from his nose. “Fucking hell!” he garbled as I spun around to grab the man charging for me. Five of them were down and trying to pull themselves off the ground. One remained.
The grand finale.
“You want to die for that bitch?” James asked while we circled one another. “She took my cock like a good girl. I loved the way she fought me off. I just wish I could have taken her ass before she escaped.”
I couldn’t wait to make him suffer.
My veins pulsed with rage.
“She was so tight. Almost like fucking a virgin,” he added, the idiot.
With a snarl, I lunged forward with blazing eyes and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him off the ground with my right hand. My muscles burned, but I was running off pure adrenaline. It was the same fucking power that roared through me when I rode bulls. It was the same protective rage that let women lift cars off of babies or let men in war dig deep to survive despite being battered with bullets.
He squirmed and screamed as he tried to break free, but it was no use. His strength was nothing compared to mine. “Please!” he mouthed.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
My grip tightened around his throat as I felt his life slipping away beneath my fingers. His screams grew quiet and soon he was still, all while I stared in determination at what I had done.
His body dropped to the ground like lead, and after a moment, he regained consciousness and gasped for air. I wasn’t going to let him die that easily.
He needed to fucking suffer.
With a savage lunge, my iron-fisted grasp encircled his balls. I bore down, feeling the satisfying pop of his testicles beneath my clenched fingers. He howled in agony, quivering in maddening pain.
The men still struggling to pull themselves up and escape gasped, cringing while running toward the horses. I didn’t have much time. They weren’t going to stop me. They were trying to save themselves.
He thrashed and screamed, the desert air swallowing his agony whole.
I looked down and ripped up a cactus that was in the ground, letting the thorns stab me in the palm before jamming it down his throat. He screamed in agony as the thorns ripped through his flesh, blood pouring from his mouth. The other men looked on in horror, their bravado all but forgotten.
I glared at them with contempt while James writhed in pain amidst a pool of blood and tears.
Their fate had been sealed—today they would learn who was the true predator, and it sure as fuck wasn’t them.
“Let’s get out of here!” one of them screamed while limping toward Clover’s horses, which were tied up and scared.
Not so fast.
I pulled out my gun.
Bullet in the skull.
Bullet to the spine.
The chest.
The neck.
