Page 155 of Crushing Clover

But what about Saint? Would he make a secret pact with Warren to get me out of his hair? This morning, I would have said no, but tonight’s evidence was damning.

I swallowed down the sob that threatened and turned away.

Stupid, to think he was starting to care about me. There was an ugly, emotional knife in my chest—in my back—and I couldn’t breathe. A keening sob cut the night air, escaping my strangled throat.

If they didn’t want me, what was the point of going on?

What kind of life could I have without them?

The pain of it was incomprehensible.

My heart was being crushed under Saint’s spit-shined boot.

“Miss!”

I ran.

My stupid pretty sandals slapped at my heels as I bolted across the grounds in the deepening darkness, not sure whereI was going. From the road, the property looked like it was completely walled in, but maybe there was another way out—a back entrance, or a gap.

I heard the man swear at my back. Pounding footsteps followed me. Was he alone, or had there been another man in the car? I hadn’t had time to assess the situation.

Although the grass was mowed, there were many trees and ornamental bushes, potentially shielding me from sight. I kicked off my sandals, and threw them into a hedge, trading their protection for silence.

This was something I was good at. I could run, and if the guy was alone, maybe I could fight. And if he got pissed off and killed me? Maybe that would be for the best.

I ran until I reached the back fence, but it was high and slick, and topped with vicious-looking wire. I had nothing to throw over that wire to shield myself, and it was hard not to envision the man catching up to me and yanking me back to the ground as I tried to climb.

I kept going, following the fence while also trying to keep to the trees. How many cameras were back here, and where were they?

Tears blinded me.

I could almost feel Warren watching, laughing at me. I was penned in like a dog.

“Bitch!” I turned to see the man launch himself at me, his warning coming a moment too late for me to avoid him. He tackled me to the ground, and I fell flat on my back. The breath whooshed out of me, and my head bounced hard off the manicured turf.

Even so, I fought. Adrenaline and desperation made me stronger than either of us anticipated, and I bucked him off, kicking him away. I scrambled, trying to regain my feet, but he was fast and crushed me to the ground again.

“Stay the fuck down.”

I wriggled and bucked beneath him, but he slowly pushed his way between my thighs, pinning me to the ground with his body. He caught at my flailing arms as I hit him in the face and neck—my blows landing too wildly to be effective. I knew how to fight, for fuck’s sake! I balled my fist and launched a better punch, but I had no momentum, and he caught my wrist in a hard grip.

“Give it up, you stupid cunt. Where do you think you’re going to go?” He was a solid presence between my thighs, crushing me against the ground. “I was told to get you to the airport, so that’s what we’re going to do.”

I tried to bite his cheek, but he jerked his face away, grinding his conspicuous erection against my privates. My dress had ridden up when I’d fallen, and the only thing between us was his pants and my impractical gauzy panties.

“Be a good girl, and I won’t have to hurt you.”

I stared up at his bulk in the shadowy dark, not sure what to do. Trying to push him off made him grind harder against me.

“Let me up!” I demanded, because what else could I do? “If you don’t let me go right now, my boyfriend is going to be pissed.”

“Yourowneris the one who sold you to us, sweetheart.”

My heart felt sick. But what about our conversations? What about the way he watched me when I was sleeping? That had to mean something, right?

Even if Lucky and Rush were in the dark about this plan, I couldn’t believe Saint didn’t feel anything for me.

I loved him.

---