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“Get your goddamn hands off me,” I seethed.
His eyes dropped to my lips and became hooded. He loosened his grip around my neck, just enough for me to suck in a small breath before he mashed his lips to mine. I gagged and clamped my lips together, twisting my face away from him. But his grip on my chin tightened, making me whimper. And he was getting off on it. I could feel his arousal pressed against my thigh.
“I should just take you now. Take what is mine and be done with you.”
He smashed his lips to mine again, forcing his tongue between my lips and into my mouth. I growled and bit down on him, drawing blood and making him more enraged.
“You fucking cunt…” Both hands went around my throat. “You think you can do that to me?”
“Let me go,” I gagged.
His arrogant eyes brightened with rage.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” His hands squeezed tighter.” I’m going to drain the life out of you, you traitorous bitch, and then I’m going to fuck your dead body while it’s still warm.”
“You won’t kill me…” I choked out, refusing to let him see how afraid I was. “Alex … will … kill … you.”
He scoffed arrogantly, too far gone to see that I was right, too high on inflicting his power over me to see the consequences he would have to face.
“I’ll tell Alex I came to console you and you attacked me.” His face rippled with the power he felt. He was getting off on choking me to death. “Tell him you lost your mind over your precious pal dying in front of you.”
I struggled against him. But his fingers only squeezed harder, cutting off my air supply. I couldn’t breathe. My skin grew hot and my brain felt like it was about to pop. Terrified, my hand smacked against the dressing table desperately, knocking over bottles and photo frames as I searched for the only thing that was going to save me from this situation.
Almost at the point of unconsciousness, my hand finally wrapped around the familiar cold steel of my Beretta—the gun I took to jobs with me—and I wasted no time shoving the barrel of it into Jean-Paul’s chin.
Fear replaced fury on his face and he let me go. Barely able to keep myself on my feet, I used my hatred for Jean-Paul and the heartbreak of Jacob and Victoria’s murders, to keep me upright.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jean-Paul barked. “Put that gun away before you hurt yourself.”
I struggled for breath and felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. But nothing was going to stop me from saying what needed to be said. I fixed him with murderous eyes. “If you ever put your hands on me again, you psychopathic fuck, I will kill you.” I released the safety so he knew I wasn’t joking. “And you’d better believe I know how to do it.”
Jean-Paul retreated. “You’ll pay for this.”
I exhaled deeply and shot into the wall behind him, just missing his ear.
“That was a warning. I’ll put the next one between your eyes.”
Jean-Paul fled, and I stumbled across the room to lock the door behind him.
Two days later, Alex sent me to Cabo.
And my life changed forever.
BULL
She’s gone.
That was my first thought when I woke up and found the bed empty beside me.
But the bathroom door was closed, and with my mind still anesthetized by sleep, I figured she was in there.
It was early. Outside, the sun had barely reached the sky and the dawn fog still rolled through the streets.
Rolling onto my back, I thought about the woman who had flipped my life on my ass. I thought back to her words last night. Because you mean everything to me. And I sank deeper into the pillows, feeling content, feeling in love.
Never in a million fucking years did I think this would happen to me.
That I would fall this hard.
Want someone this much.
But Taylor had changed all of it. And when I thought about her, I found myself grinning like a fucking teenager.
Slowly, last night came back to me in hazy images. Her turning up on my doorstep and wanting me so bad. The emotion in her touch. The need in her kiss.
The tears.
The realization came out of nowhere and hit me like a bolt of lightning.
I sat up with a rush.
Had she been saying goodbye?
I launched out of bed and flung open the bathroom door. The room was empty.
She was gone.
A sharp pain hit me in the gut.
She’d left without a word.
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and called her. But it went straight to voicemail.
I tried again and again, but again and again she didn’t answer.
Panic unfurled in the base of my spine.
The more I went over last night, the more I was convinced that she was saying goodbye.
