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“Ena, you have to know that—”
“You stupid bitch!”
I cry out because Zervas is there. I was so engrossed in my conversation with Marco—letting my voice calm me—that I didn’t hear him come in. That was a mistake because now his hand is wrapped in my hair, and he’s yanked my head back so painfully that I leave the phone on the counter and reach up to try and pulls his hands from my hair. That was yet another mistake because he pulls me off the floor so that I’m dangling just from that hold and now I have nothing to hold onto. The pain is so intense that I can’t keep my tears at baby any longer.
“Let me go,” I cry. I try to kick out but that just makes the pain that much more intense.
“You stupid bitch! You thought you could play me? You’re such a stupid cunt. I expected more from you, Hel.”
He lets my feet hit the ground, dragging me by my hair as he goes to where I left the phone lying. He crouches down to pick it up. “Who the fuck is this?” he snaps.
Zervas must have switched it over to speakerphone. I was afraid to because I didn’t want him to hear me. Now, though I hear Marco’s voice loud and clear.
“You let her go right now and I may leave you breathing. You touch her and I’ll make you pay in ways you couldn’t imagine,” he threatens, his voice cold and deadly.
“Marco Stratakis,” Zervas spits out. “You aren’t going to do anything,” he laughs.
“I will. You touch her and you sign you death warrant.”
This just seems to make Zervas laugh harder.
“Marco,” I wheeze. “I love you.” It’s probably not smart to say that in front of Zwervas, but at this point, I don’t really care. It may be my last chance to tell him how I feel, and I need to tell him.
“Remember what I told you, Ena. Be strong for me,” Marco says, but he messed up because beneath the anger in his voice, I hear the pain. I close my eyes.
“I’ll be okay, Marco. I’ll be okay,” I lie.
Zervas laughs again and this time it sounds even more maniacal. “Yeah, she’ll be alright, Marco. I’ll take real good care of her. I’ll treat her so good that I’ll have her begging.”
“You touch her, and I’ll drain the blood from your body drop by drop while you’re still fucking breathing!”
“Oh, I’m going to touch her. I don’t care that I’m going to have Stratakis leftovers. When I’m done with her you won’t have the stomach to touch her. I’ll fuck every hole I can find on her body—”
“You motherfucker—”
“You’re not going to touch me!” I scream, wrenching my head free, ignoring the pain as my hair rips free from my scalp.
My body slumps to the cold tiled floor. I ignore it. I lunge at Zervas, holding onto one of his legs, knowing that’s the best way to try and prevent him from kicking me. “You’re not touching me!” I scream again.
“Ena!” Marco yells, but I can’t respond.
I try to pull back and punch him in the crotch, but I know it’s a weak hit and it won’t do anything. He’s grabbing my hair again, but I don’t think about that either. I sink my teeth into his leg and use my fingernails to claw at him wherever I can reach him. He growls out so I know I’m drawing blood. I just keep at it. I know it’s not going to do much. I know my situation is helpless, but I don’t care. The most revolting thing is that I can tell what we’re doing is arousing him. My hand brushes against the evidence of that and as much as I don’t want to, I can only think of one thing that might hurt him enough that I can get free. Maybe there will be people out in the gas station who will help me. With that thought, I move to bite down on the outline of his cock. I bite down hard and try to tear. He pulls on my hair again and I fight him with everything in me. I move down seeking and finding the area that’s softer—more vulnerable with my hand and then I bite down there and pull with all my might.
“You fucking cunt!” he screams.
His hand pushes against my head, but I refuse to let go. I keep biting, releasing quickly, only to slam my teeth back in and shake my head like a rabid dog. He yells out in pain. I know a moment of victory. Knowing I may never get another chance, I grind my teeth one final time. The pants feel wet, and I can’t tell if it’s from my mouth or if he’s bleeding. I hope like hell it is the latter. I release him and quickly push back as he bends down to hold his junk—which I hope has been ruined for life.
