“I have no doubt you’ll find it the highlight of your old and wasted life,” she muttered. “So why don’t you tell me why I’m here rather than threatening me all day?”
He grunted at what she considered a very clear order.
“What of the less than charming Mr. Connor? Is he still f**king Khalid’s trash up the ass or has he fulfilled his depravity and Khalid’s, by actually taking Khalid like the animals they both are?” Azir watched her like a hungry wolf.
Paige could feel a chill of dread race up her spine as her skin crawled with distaste at the lustful interest in his gaze. Each time he mentioned Khalid and Shane sharing Marty, or any reference to their sexual activities, hunger flashed across his face.
She shook her head warily. “You must have the Shane Connor I know confused with someone else, not to mention the Khalid andrty I know. Are you sure you haven’t been sniffing the camel glue a little too often?.”
Azir snorted sarcastically, his lips curling in disgust. “I should have killed him and his whoring mother when I had the chance. When I realized she was as faithless as the wind.”
“All women are just whores to you, aren’t they, Azir?” Good common sense was overridden by the continued insults to her gentle, compassionate mother.
Despite the time she had been locked in these rooms, raped nightly and forced to conceive the child of her ra**st, still, she had adored her son and lavished him with love, just as she had her daughter.
“Your mother is a whore,” he snarled. “She shares herself as her son shares the diseased flesh of his women. She corrupted my son’s mind and his soul and turned him into a depraved animal.”
“After you kidnapped and raped her, and forced her to marry you I’d say you’re the monster and the animal, not my mother or my brother,” Paige retorted scathingly. She could practically feel the knife against her tongue now.
“Your father stole what was mine. He is the kidnapper, the criminal. From my very home he tore my wife from my arms and turned her against me.” He raged, his arms lifting, fingers curling to fists as he brought them to his chest as though in supplication. “Do you not understand what they did to me? To my child? They destroyed us.”
“She was running for her life when my uncle and my father found her,” she argued desperately. “She risked death to escape you, Azir. No one had to tear her from your arms because she had already done it for herself. She risked her life and that of her baby to get away from you, Mustafa!”
Hatred.
It was like a disease.
It overrode terror just enough to keep her from shutting her mouth and being prudent. Her temper was getting the best of her. It was her curse. She was a nice person, she really was, until someone ignorant decided to force that ignorance in her face, and then she just couldn’t hold back.
“She belongs to me!” he screamed, his eyes widening, becoming crazed as he surged forward before she could escape him.
He caught her off guard as he backhanded her with what she was certain had to be the full force he possessed. It was enough force to make her feel as if the blow had disintegrated every bone in her head.
Lights exploded before her eyes as she felt herself all but fly across the room to collapse against the stone floor. Her head was ringing with a thousand cymbals, her gaze dizzy as she lost her breath. She felt herself trying to pass out from the coppery taste of her own blood.
The taste filled her mouth, and in a distant, horror-filled part of her mind Paige realized that this was the first time in her life that she had ever been struck.
“You are a disrespectful little harlot, just as your mother was. But she learned her place, and you will learn yours. Or you will die as I should have killed her.”
He stood over her, raging down at her like a maniac.
“She escaped you though, didn’t she?” She wheezed as she fought to breathe through the pain, her arms shaking as she tried to brace them under her. “She hates you, Azir. She hates you so much she’d kill you herself if she could.”
If she was going to die, then she would be damned if she wouldn’t inflict just as many insults as she could drag out of her ringing, pain-dazed mind.
“I could break you!” He sounded like a wild animal as she tried to focus on him. “I should show you how easy it is to break a little whore such as yourself. I could make you beg to die. Beg to call your mother a whore to her face just to make the pain cease.”
“I’d kill myself first,” she snarled back at him. She tried to brace herself against the floor, her arm losing strength and giving up on her as she fell to the floor once again.
A second later vicious fingers were curling into her hair, dragging her to her knees as she screamed.
Her struggles were weak, ineffective. She hadn’t managed to get her bearings from that blow yet or the agonizing pain still roiling through her senses, and the strength was just slow returning, she told herself.
She could feel the knotted sheet between her br**sts slipping. Suddenly, the knowledge that she would be na**d before him seemed as bad as being raped by him. Someone had already undressed her, that violation was enough. She sure as hell had no intention of allowing him to see her again, while she was conscious.
She struggled to grip the sheet and hold it to her as Azir, gripping her arms, jerked her to her feet and began shaking her viciously. Her head jerked dangerously on her shoulders as she tried to dig her nails into his arms, but she was weak and dizzy.
“I trained that little bitch, just as I’ll train you.”