“You’re mine,” he says, dragging me toward his car. “Now get in.”
“No,” I argue, trying to claw at his hand. He ignores my fingernails and grabs my throat, cutting off my air.
Suddenly, I realize something. This time, it’s not an ass slap that got a little too rough or a pinch that was a little too sharp. This isn’t even like the last time, where he did real damage to my wrists from his punishing grip.
No. This time, it’s not gonna be a little bruise to my body or my ego. This time, I’m going to die.
The thought grips me in a panic, granting a sudden burst of strength to fight back, fight for my life. I kick my feet, aiming for his legs, his groin, and push and pull on his hands, trying to loosen his hold. But my head is spinning from the lack of oxygen, and Rich is so much stronger than me.
The darkness closes in, my eyes locking on his victorious grin, full of ugly promises. My last thought is that I hope whatever he does, I won’t feel it.
Chapter 30
Scott
Stopping on a dime when going over a hundred miles an hour isn’t an easy task, even for my car. But with a squeal of brakes, I force the stop and jump out, sprinting toward the smashed car as smoke starts to rise. My heart is in my throat. Madison!
It’s dark, but in the small flame’s light, I can see someone approaching the car. I don’t know who the suited man is, but Tiffany’s words echo in my mind, and I realize it must be Madison’s ex, Rich.
I run harder, my shoes slipping on the cool pavement, and I wish I was wearing anything but dress shoes and slacks right now.
It seems like I’m running in slow-motion as the scene plays out in hyper-speed in front of me. I watch in horror as Rich reaches into the car and Madison cries out. He pulls her out of the car, and I have a flare of joy that she’s alive and free, and fighting back like a she-devil even though she’s in bad shape. Her left leg is smoking, she has a forehead gash that is dripping blood down her cheek, and her voice sounds rough and crackly from the smoke as she yells. The flames from the engine compartment of her wrecked car rise higher, reaching into the night at an odd angle because the car is almost completely flipped on its roof. She struggles, but he grabs her hard by the throat and drags her closer to that black car of his. I know with every fiber of my being that I have to stop him before he gets her in that car.
I dig deep for more speed but feel a punch to my gut as she sags in his hands. Rich catches her under the arm, but before he can take two steps, I’m there.
I don’t give him any warning. He doesn’t deserve one. I hit them both in a tackle, pulling Madison into my arms as I roll to the ground, cushioning her fall before getting back to my feet to defend her unconscious form.
“What the fuck!” Rich groans, holding his head as he rolls over and bounces to his feet. His eyes land on me, and his face transforms from confusion to utter rage. “You. Thought you could take her from me? No! She’s mine.”
Spittle flies from his mouth as he yells, all façade of decency washed from his mannerisms. He’s a dog with a bone, a predator with its prey. But Madison is none of those things. Not to him. Not to me. Not to anyone.
“She isn’t yours. She never was. And if you can’t recognize that she’s a strong fucking woman who stands on her own, that’s your mistake,” I growl, stepping forward.
A flash of silver appears in Rich’s right hand, and I see him snap out a knife. He holds it in front of him, waving it back and forth, looking comfortable with the blade. “She is mine. I made her what she is and she needs me.”
I’ve fought before. Chase and I have brawled on more than one occasion. But we’ve never used knives. And a cotton dress shirt doesn’t exactly do a lot for protection.
“She doesn’t need you. She doesn’t need anyone. She’s the strongest person I know.”
In that simple truth about Madison, Rich’s Achilles heel comes to me. He’s arrogant but weak. He