either, what would he do to her? To her daughter?
While she tried to think of some way to escape, he jammed the blunt tip of his penis against her lips in warning. “Open up. And make it good.”
God, she didn’t want to do this…but she didn’t see a way out. For that alone, she’d hate Cash forever.
As she sat frozen in indecision, she heard a jangling, followed by the slide of metal. Then the door crashed in. The knob banged against the wall of her foyer.
Relief surged when she saw Zy fill the doorway, looking strong and furious and hell-bent on saving her.
He charged in their direction. “Let her go.”
Cash blanched and cursed, frantically yanking his pants up to cover his junk. “How the fuck did you get in here?”
“Key.” Zy pocketed the shiny object, giving him two free hands, which he curled into fists that promised pain if Cash didn’t relent.
“You gave him one?” Cash hissed as he yanked mercilessly on her hair.
“No.” That was the truth, but she was so grateful that he’d apparently swiped hers and copied it. She’d think about why later.
Cash sneered at Zy. “Then leave it here and get the fuck out. We’re busy getting busy.”
“No, you aren’t. Step away from her.”
“Or what?”
Zy smiled. “I’ll pound you into next week.”
“What the fuck ever. You can’t touch me, and if you do…I’ll have you arrested.” Cash’s mean grin said he was really looking forward to that.
“You think they’ll arrest me? I’m not the one attempting to rape Tessa. That seems way more serious to me.”
“Rape?” Cash scoffed, then tugged on her hair again. “Tell him how willing you are, babe.”
She pressed her lips together, stubbornly remaining mute.
Cash’s face burned red. “Now!”
Zy gestured in her direction. “She’s not willing. That’s in your head.”
“That’s your wishful thinking, asshole. She’s totally willing. We have a baby together.”
“Yeah, but she hasn’t agreed to have sex with you the whole time you’ve lived here.” Zy sauntered closer and moved in, his smile nasty. “Ever ask yourself why? Maybe it’s because I’m giving it to her so much better.”
“Bullshit!”
“Is it?”
What the hell was he doing? “Zy!”
He sent her a glance. Just a fraction of an instant, but even that connection calmed her. He had some trick, some plan… She just had to play along.
“See, even she’s calling bullshit.”
“Or she’s trying to convince me not to spill our secrets.” Zy raised a brow. “Let her go. I’m not going to tell you again.”
He would flatten Cash. Her ex liked to play big and tough, but he wasn’t. Zy was—just by breathing, by being.
“What do you think you’re going to do to me?” he sneered as if he’d never allow Zy to touch him.
“Is your imagination as small as your dick? Is that why you need me to spell it out?”
“Shut up! You don’t know anything about my dick.”
“I just saw it.” Zy gestured to his fly with a snide grin. “I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or call the Guinness people to see if you set a world record for the tiniest.”
Finally, Cash released his terrible grip on her hair, and she bolted to her feet, righting her clothes, as he lunged at Zy, fists first. “That’s it, you motherfucker. I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”
He swung at Zy, who reared back just in time to avoid the fist flying at his chin. Zy didn’t wait to counter. He was sober, faster, and far more skilled. His right hand slammed into Cash’s jaw in a fierce roundhouse. Then his left propelled an immediate uppercut to his stomach.
“Oof!” Cash doubled over, looking up at Zy with murder in his eyes, and croaked, “You’re a dead man.”
Suddenly, he reached into his pocket, and with the press of a button, out popped a gleaming switchblade.
Horror washed over Tessa. She didn’t want to think about how close she’d been to that knife or what he’d been planning to do to her with it. Now, she had to help Zy.
While Cash sprang at him with the blade, taking a vicious swipe at his face, she glanced around her living room for a weapon. Nothing. He’d probably hear her coming at him with something a big as a chair, and her fireplace tools were on the other side of the room, behind Zy.
In desperation, she whirled to her kitchen—and found a wealth of options. The closest and least messy was her kettle. She grabbed it off the stove, kicked off her shoes, then tiptoed up