Inevitable (King Crime Family #2) - J.L. Beck Page 0,71

don’t think I can change that.

Defeated, I lower myself to the grimy mattress and try to relax. Of course, that’s impossible, given the situation. I can’t stop my heart from banging against my ribcage, nor can I stop the dread that’s filling every vein in my body.

Fear settles deep into my bones, but when I hear footsteps approaching, that terror takes on new heights.

“He is coming,” Eli whispers before grabbing me and flipping me on my stomach.

“Wha–” is all I get out before the rest of the word is caught in my throat. Eli rips my jeans and panties down my legs and pushes my face into the mattress.

I try to push myself up, but he straddles my legs and holds my upper body down with his arm, rendering me completely helpless. I hear him opening his own pants, unzipping the zipper, and my heart sinks in my stomach. Is he really going to do this?

“Eli…” I beg, whimpering against the mattress.

“Shut up!” he yells, just as I hear the door being unlocked and opened.

My face is turned away from the door, so I can’t see, but I know it’s Mack. I can feel it. Disgust and bone-crushing fear have my body shaking like a leaf.

“God, put your dick back in your pants, I don’t want to see that thing,” Mack orders.

“Then don’t come in here while I’m fucking her,” Eli quips like he is simply being reasonable. “I’m not done. I’ve waited a long time for this, now let me have my fun.”

“Fine, take your time. I just wanted to make sure you’re doing your part… And text Enzo to come now.”

As quickly as he entered the room, Mack leaves. The door falls shut, and the clicking of the lock fills the room.

I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel the wetness on my cheek and a sob rips from my throat.

“Shhh, you’re fine,” Eli soothes, his voice suddenly comforting. What the fuck is this? Does he have multiple personalities or something?

He pulls my panties and pants back up before turning me around.

“You okay?” he asks, studying my face.

I shake my head. I’m not okay. None of this shit is okay.

“You will be, though, just trust me.” I want to laugh. Did he seriously just ask me to trust him, after he admitted to basically double-crossing us?

“Mack knows… he told you to text Enzo. You’re setting a trap…”

“Just trust me,” he repeats as if him saying it twice will suddenly make me believe him. Turning away from him, I curl up on my side, trying to get warm.

That’s when I feel it. As I pull up my legs, I feel the stiff metal pressed up against my calf. Fuck... the knife. I still have the knife in my boot. How the hell did I forget about the fucking weapon I have on me?

Cursing myself silently, I contemplate on what to do next. I could pull the knife out right now, threaten Eli to let me go, or at least let me call Enzo, but the chances are he would overpower me. Plus, he technically hasn’t hurt me. He only pretended to, that doesn’t mean he won’t, he already said so.

Damn, why can’t he just pick a side? How am I supposed to trust him?

I finally decide to keep the knife hidden for now. Hopefully, I get a chance to use it on Mack. At least I’ll have the element of surprise.

Minutes pass, maybe even hours, and slowly but surely, my eyelids grow heavier. For a while I keep myself busy by fighting sleep, but when Eli moves, my eyes fly open, and I feel wide awake for a moment.

I’m shocked when he lies down next to me. He doesn’t touch me, leaving a few inches of space between us, but it’s enough to feel his body heat warming my skin.

“Go to sleep. If he comes in, I’ll make up some lie,” he mumbles, placing his head against the mattress. I catch genuine concern in his eyes, and I know he is telling me the truth. At least in this instant, I trust he’ll watch out for me.

I nod and close my eyes, giving them what they’ve been begging for. In a moment’s time, my mind heads to a place where neither pain nor death can touch me.

Lorenzo King’s arms.

19

Enzo

“They have her, Enzo.” Jared rushes into the house, his voice full of panic. I stand there in the middle of the room, staring and doing nothing, letting the guilt eat