Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,89
beating dangerously fast when my back slammed into a wall. Glancing around, I saw we were in a cabin that looked like it hadn’t seen signs of human life in well over a decade. It could have been a set out of a horror movie, and I wouldn’t have been surprised.
Greg moved across the room, grabbing one of the dust-covered chairs from a small, crudely built table. He carried it closer, setting it down in the center of the room, effectively blocking off the only exit out of this hellhole, and sat down, forearms to his knees.
I couldn’t stand to look at him, so I shifted my attention to the side, sucking in a sharp gasp when I saw the bruised and battered body of a woman lying on the floor near the corner.
“Oh my God,” I cried, crawling across the floor and reaching for her. I sat back and rested her head on my thighs, prodding at her throat in an attempt to find a pulse, but my hands were too shaky.
“Relax,” he grunted. “She’s alive. For the time being.”
My head shot up, tears welling in my eyes, mixing with the blood that had dripped into them from the gash on the side of my head, created when he’d knocked me out. Bile slithered up my throat, making it burn as I asked, “What did you do?”
“Nothing she didn’t deserve,” he hissed through gnashed teeth. “This is what happens when you rat.”
Rat. Oh my God. Looking down at the woman’s face, I couldn’t make out a single thing thanks to all the swelling and mottled bruises everywhere. “Charlie?” I whispered, hoping this wasn’t the woman Micah had told me about only a couple days ago, the woman who’d endured more than anyone’s fair share of hell on earth. Her body gave a little jerk, and one of her eyelids opened just a fraction.
God, no. Desperation to get us both out of here began coursing through my veins.
My voice rattled as I told him, “You don’t have to do this. You can leave right now. Get in your car and drive away. You’ll be long gone by the time anyone finds us.”
He raised his arms at his sides and looked around. “You aren’t really in the position to be bargaining right now, beautiful.” That endearment made my skin crawl. “There isn’t a chance in hell of your little boyfriend finding us any time soon, and by the time he finally picks up the trail, I’ll be long gone and you’ll be dead.”
I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl up in a ball and beg and plead, but my pride wouldn’t let me. That fire that Micah loved so much forced my chin up and my eyes into a glare as I demanded, “Then why haven’t you done it yet, huh? What are you waiting for?”
He looked at me curiously, his eyes taking me in slowly. “There’s one thing I have to know first.”
“What’s that?”
“Why him?”
My head canted to the side in confusion. “What?”
“Langford. Why him? The man’s fucked and thrown over more than half the women in this goddamn county. What was it that made you pick him over me?”
“It wasn’t a choice. Despite what you’ve twisted up in your head, I was never interested in you.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter now.” he said, sending a sick chill down my spine. “Word gets around. I didn’t peg you for the kind of woman who likes it that rough.” His eyes did a sweep of my body in a way that made my skin crawl. A twisted smile curled his lips, making my stomach clench. “If I’d known that from the beginning, I’d have played it very differently.”
He canted his head to the side like he was studying me. “Maybe I still will. Been dying for a taste ever since you waved your ass all around that night at The Tap Room, just begging for attention.” He stood and took a step toward me. I slid back, but there was nowhere to go. “Maybe I’ll find out for myself how rough you like it before I put a bullet through that gorgeous face.”
“Stop,” I cried as he bent down and grabbed hold of my ankle. He yanked until I landed on my back then dragged me across the floor as I kicked and screamed. “Let me go! Don’t touch me!” I fought as hard as I could as he came down to the ground, pinning my body with his weight.