Page 10 of Rake

“Lucky for me,” he continues. “Not so lucky for you. Probably why you don’t like casinos. Not a place for people with bad luck.”

He chuckles at his joke. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone as much as I want to hurt this man, not even the one who did the beating. My brain screams at my body to fight back, but I can’t move. I can’t move and I hate myself for it.

He drags me along, and I’m not sure if my legs are even touching the ground at this point. My brain floods with images of all the horrible things that will happen to me when this little trip ends, and I can’t decide if it’d be better if we got to our destination sooner rather than later, just so it’ll be over with.

Maybe anticipation is worse.

He pulls me up some stairs into a building. I can’t see where.

No, the anticipation isn’t worse and I know it. Something shakes loose in my brain and my muscles respond to my commands. I thrash against him, kicking and clawing.

“Almost there.” He grabs me by the neck and hauls me up several flights of stairs.

I can’t scream. The blood can’t reach my brain with the pressure he’s putting on my neck, and the fight drains from me too. White pinpoints of light are the only thing I can see.

Is the pounding sound my brain begging for blood or someone banging on a door?

“P.J.? What the hell?” The new voice is deep and rich.

“I have a little gift from your father.”

I’m shoved into a warm space, blood rushing to my head with the pressure gone from my neck. My knees give in and I tumble onto a hardwood floor in a heap. I count slowly as I breathe. The conversation goes on as if I’m not even there, lying on the floor with a hood over my head gasping for air. What’s going to happen to me?

“The little lady here’s been causing trouble, and she ignored a very polite and direct request to butt out of your family’s business,” P.J. says. “And your father thought you’d want to handle this directly. Though if you want, I’m happy to help.”

P.J. pulls me up by the back of my coat. I move with him like a rag doll. “She’s cute,” he says. “We’d have a good time. Well, I would anyway.”

A pathetic whimper escapes my lips at the implied threat.

“Jesus Christ, P.J. Leave her and get out. I’ll take care of things here.”

Do I want to be left with the man who orders P.J. around like it’s nothing?

“Okay, but if you don’t deal with her, your father will find out, and then I don’t have to tell you what comes next.” P.J. shoves me back on the ground.

“Are you threatening me? Because that’s not a good idea.” There’s a commanding edge to his voice. Though I want P.J. out of my life more than anything, I’m afraid of what’s going to happen next. I fumble with the hem of the hood, but my fingers are too cold to function properly.

“Of course not. I’m threatening her. Your father, though. He was threatening you both. See ya.”

The door opens and then clicks shut.

I’m completely numb and barely process the hood being pulled gently from my head. It takes several rapid blinks to clear my vision. I’m in the living room of an apartment. The normalcy of the space is rattling.

The man standing in front of me is absurdly handsome. He’s tall, with an angular, masculine face lined by a well-sculpted beard. Thick, dark wavy hair hangs over eyes so blue they’re almost black. He stares at me, leaning against a leather couch.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

His question is so ridiculous I almost start laughing. Just like P.J.

“I know you,” I slur. “You’re Finn Carney.” My teeth chatter, feeling slowly returning to my face.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage. And you are?”

“You have to be kidding me.” I let out a hysterical laugh. “I’ve been kidnapped and dragged to your apartment. This isn’t a fucking meet-cute.”

I can sort of feel my toes now. My ankle throbs and is going to hurt like hell when the panic fog lifts all the way. A distraction from all the other bruises I’m sure I picked up on this journey. Drowns out the ache in my shin, too.

“Unfortunately not,” he says. He runs his eyes over me in a way that makes me blush though I can’t say exactly why. “But it looks like we’re stuck together until we figure this out, and it’d be a lot easier if I knew your name.”

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