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I would rather boil my tongue in acid while it’s still attached to my mouth. “I gave you the cash for this week.”
“Did you?” He shrugs. “Must’ve slipped my mind. Anyway, I saw your place, saw your boyfriend. You can afford a whole lot more than you’ve been paying me.” He clicks his tongue. “That makes you a liar, and if there’s one thing I despise in this world, Sloan, it’s liars. Why would you lie to me? I’ve been working with you. Trying to give you some breaks. I’ve been so very, very generous.”
We have very different opinions about what constitutes “generous.” “Are you serious?” I balk. I shouldn’t be baiting him, but my head is spinning. Thoughts of Beck, his knees getting broken in by the Bloodhound’s pipe-wielding thugs, spiral through my head. Each one is worse than the last.
“Oh, I’mdeadlyserious.”
My hands tremble. I tuck them into my armpits so he can’t see. “I’ve paid you so much more than my father ever owed you.”
I try to make my voice strong, narrow my eyes. I need to give the impression that I’m as fierce as he is.
But he doesn’t care if I’m fierce or not. “The interest built up over the years. So much interest. And your payments have been… Well, let’s be kind and call them ‘unreliable.’”
“I think the word you want isweekly.”
I’m probably being bolder than I should be, since my circumstances haven’t changed.
After all, I’m still alone in a warehouse with a beast.
“I used the word I want.” He stands up and uses the backs of his legs to shove the chair away. Then he’s on me, snatching up a fistful of my shirt collar tight enough to choke me. “I want my fucking money, Sloan. I want all of it. And I want it now. You have a big-time, rich boyfriend. I would hate to see him get hurt, maybe miss a game or two, all over a few measly bucks, wouldn’t you?”
His breath is hot and toxic in my face. I really might throw up now.
“Leave Beck out of this! He has nothing to do with my dad’s debt.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Sloan. You’re living in his house. Beckett Daniels is mostdefinitelya part of this. He has you to thank for that.”
“He doesn’t know anything about this.”
“More lies. I’ll bet he does. I’ll bet he knows a whole lot more than you think. And no amount of distracting him with that pretty little mouth of yours is going to make him forgive that you’re lying to him.”
“I’m not lying!”
His eyes gleam like he knows he’s got me caught. “You haven’t told him about me, have you? About our special relationship?”
“We donothave a special relationship. There’s no need to tell him a fucking thing.” My words are defiant, but my voice is so weak that the effect is totally lost.
I sound like what I am: helpless.
“So tough, you are, aren’t you?” He caresses my cheek with the back of his knuckles.
Then, before I can even process what’s happening, he backhands me. The crack of his slap across my face echoes through the empty room. I taste blood again and my brain ricochets around the inside of my skull. If it weren’t for his hand still clutching my shirt collar, I’d collapse to the ground in a miserable puddle.
He shakes me like a ragdoll. “You’re tough, yes, you are, aren’t you?” he coos again. His voice is calm but his eyes are wild and enraged. “You’re so fucking tough. You could take anything. You could take my cock in your mouth if I made you, couldn’t you?”
I hear the heart wrenching sound of his free hand undoing his belt buckle. The teeth of his zipper groan as he takes it down. My pulse is like a drumline in my head,BOOM-BOOM-BOOM,as he starts to lower me to my knees.
“F… fu… fuck y-y—” I try to stammer.
But before I can form the words, a thunder of crunching gravel sounds outside. It’s as if a car has sped in and slid to a stop. Then there are doors slamming. Footsteps.
The Bloodhound pauses. “Sounds like your white knight is here.”
My white knight?
I barely have time to think the thought before the door slams open with a cannon bang. Beck storms in, hands fisted at his sides like a fucking Viking.
“Motherfucker!” His voice is loud, but so is the beating of my own heart in my ears.
