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“No names! Or they’ll die,” Millar stated. The bottom half of his face was covered by a mask, but it was him.
“This woman is injured. Madisen needs a hospital,” Mack said, bravely standing by my gurney.
“She’ll see one; get up, Madisen,” Millar demanded.
“She has a dislocated shoulder at the very least and whiplash!” Mack explained.
“Ain’t your problem unless you want to make it one?” Millar replied. “I’ll not ask again. Move before someone pays the price.”
Millar meant the threat. I could see it in his eyes. I struggled to get up, and Mack helped me. As I leant into Mack, I whispered in his ear.
“Contact Levi at Hellfire.”
“Done,” Mack murmured. He supported me out of the ambulance, outrage and anger showing in his frame.
“Don’t get ideas, asshole,” Millar warned. He moved towards me and took my bad arm. Without warning, he wrenched, and I screamed and hit my knees as pain shot through me. Millar had popped the shoulder back in, but fuck that had hurt. I heaved and threw up on account of the pain, and Millar jumped away and checked his shoes.
“Get her in the SUV,” he ordered one of his men. The guy nodded, and, grabbing my good arm, yanked me into a black motor.
“Don’t try to be heroes. You’ll die, and she’ll regret it for the rest of her life,” Millar warned and headed towards me. He climbed into the back seat next to me and handed me a pack of mints.
“Freshen your breath,” he snapped, sending me a look of disgust.
“Fuck you,” I replied but took the mints. There was a nasty taste in my mouth. “Derek’s going to rip your fucking throat out.”
“Derek will not give a shit when you’ve got my ring on your finger,” Millar retorted as the SUV sped off.
“Won’t stop Derek from making me a widow,” I said with smugness in my voice.
“Won’t stop me making myself a widower if you don’t shut up. As soon as you sign the wedding certificate, everything you have becomes mine.”
“Wrong, I have a will in place.”
“No, Madisen, did you think I wouldn’t cover that? Alongside a marriage certificate is a brand new will,” Millar said, sounding far too happy,
“I’m not marrying you.”
“How much do you want to bet on that?” Millar demanded.
“My fucking life!”
“That can be arranged, although, before your death, I intend to sample the goods.” Millar grinned.
One thing was for sure, I’d die before I let him rape me. My mind was working overtime as Millar drove away with me. There had to be something I could do. I glanced down at my hands. If my dominant hand was broken, Millar couldn’t force me to do anything. A smile crossed my lips. Easily done.
We exited the main roads and began taking single lanes, and I wondered where the hell we were heading. Millar was now ignoring me, and I was looking for something to identify where I was. There was nothing.
I saw the roof of a house through the trees, and we pulled up outside a modest four-bedroom home. The driver got out and opened Millar’s door while the other guard opened mine. I struggled out and clung to the door. The guard stepped back and, taking a deep breath and gathering my courage, I placed my hand on the car. With all the strength my damaged shoulder could muster, which was still a lot, I slammed the door on it. My scream was drowned out by Millar’s bellow. It didn’t matter. The incredible pain swept through me, and I managed a second slam just before I passed out.
I came to.
Millar glowered at me as another man bandaged my hand.
“You fucking bitch,” Millar growled. The other guy stood up and walked away to the door without a word. “This would have been over for you in a couple of days. Marry me, sign the will, and a quick bullet to the head. Now you’re gonna suffer until you can sign, you dumb whore.”
His fist came towards me, and I couldn’t even move, as I was still disorientated. It connected, and tears flooded my eyes at the pain.
“I will die before you ever marry and rape me,” I promised as I felt my lip begin to swell.
