Page 74 of Flynn

“Ellis, we can work through this, okay? Just come with me. We’ll go somewhere to talk. Let’s go for a walk to the beach, okay?” I had no intention of going anywhere with him, but I needed him to believe that I was on his side and wanted to talk.

Silence fell for a moment, heavy and thick. I barely breathed as I waited for him to answer me.

“No,” he answered, but this time his voice was calm, soft. His face had smoothed out and his eyes took on a nearly glassy quality. For some reason, that change scared me more than him yelling. An eerie silence filled the room as he inched back the smallest bit, his eyes sweeping over my face before dropping lower, and lower, his gaze raking me over from head to toe.

Something unpleasant slithered up my spine, and a sinking feeling began in my stomach.

“No, I don’t think we’re going anywhere,” he said again, slowly reaching out to touch me. I couldn’t help it; I flinched away from his touch. There was a second where he paused before pain radiated up my cheek and jaw before bursting behind my eye.

I cried out, equal parts hurt and shocked. It all happened so fast, and it took precious seconds to realize he’d just slapped me! Before I could do more than raise my hand to my cheek, his hand came up to grip my jaw painfully, fingers biting, forcing me to look at him.

I couldn’t seem to breathe. I couldn’t take in enough air as panic tried to overwhelm me.

“We would have been good together, Chiara. You and me, we would have been fucking spectacular, but you never gave us the chance to find out,” he began, his eyes wide and showing far too much white. “I saw you the other night. I saw you fucking that asshole in the club. You like it rough. I see that now, and I can give that to you,” he continued as I struggled to push him away. He used his body to keep me pinned to the doors, his smile manic as he leaned in close to me and gave a small laugh. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come to me, so I think it’s time I just show you how fucking good we can be.”

A cry ripped from my throat when he gripped my hair painfully with the other hand and he spun me around. I stumbled, tears stinging in my eyes at his tight grip before I fell backwards. The mattress broke my fall as I struggled to catch my breath. I turned over and started scrambling away, adrenaline and fear pushing me faster than normal, but it wasn’t fast enough. Ellis grabbed my ankle and yanked me back to the edge of the bed.

“No!” I screamed, shooting my hand toward him. My nails scored down the side of his face leaving bright red tracks. But my moment of satisfaction was short lived when he swore and shot out with his fist, slamming it into my face. Stars burst behind my eyes and my whole body went limp. For a moment, unconsciousness tried to take me. I struggled to stay awake, reminding myself that I needed to keep my eyes open, that I needed to fight.

When I regained control of my faculties, Ellis was leaning over me, his knee pressing into my abdomen to keep me down as he yanked his belt free and loosened the button of his jeans.

Another jolt of fear cleared away the last of the haze in my head and I struggled again. I managed to wiggle away from him, and this time when he grabbed my ankle, I was ready. I kickedbackwards with all my might, sending him off balance. He staggered back and I made it to the other side of the bed where I grabbed the lamp from the bedside table, yanking the cord from the wall. He charged at me with a roar, and I smashed the lamp down over his head. Glass rained down on him, and he swore but was still moving and took me to the ground again. I hit the carpet hard, the side of my head and shoulder clipping the corner of the wall. I winced. Fear muted the pain, and I kept fighting. He punched twice more. Once in my face, and another to my chest, my breath trapping in my lungs. I struggled to breathe, but I didn’t stop fighting, scratching my nails up his arms and his face, digging them in and ripping as hard as I could. Skin gave way, and my fingertips became wet with blood. I bucked beneath him, trying to force him off as he tore at my shirt.

The second I regained my ability to breathe, I screamed as loud as I could, hoping desperately someone nearby would hear.

“Shut up!” he snarled, trying to punch me again, but I raised my arm to block. Grabbing my arm instead, Ellis grunted and twisted my left arm hard enough that my screams for help turned into a yelp of pain.

“Stop fucking fighting!” he ordered harshly.

With the twist he had on my arm, he lifted himself off me and forced me over onto my stomach. I tried to struggle, but his hold on my arm threatened to break it if I kept going. The moment I was flat on my stomach, he shoved my skirt up. I struggled, using my other arm to slap back at him, trying to get my knees under me so I could buck him off, but he was too heavy.

“Just give us a chance, Chiara. We can be good together. You’ll see!” he continued to shout.

I screamed again, tears burning in my eyes.

Please, no!

He tore at my underwear and a renewed wave of energy slammed into me. Gritting my teeth, I yanked my arm from hisgrip, feeling something rip painfully, but I got it free. Crying out in agony, I forced myself to push aside the pain and rolled again, bucking so that he lost his balance, and I got to my knees. He grabbed at my hair in a desperate attempt to take hold of me again, but I kept moving. Strands ripped from my head, but I didn’t stop now. I turned as I got to my feet and kicked out at him, feeling his nose crunch under the heel of my foot. He swore and cried out, and I wasted no more time. Launching myself toward the door, I yanked it open only to run face-first into a large chest. I opened my mouth to scream, confused, disoriented, somehow convinced Ellis was here too, and I was never getting away.

I started fighting at once, punching the chest, shoving and screaming, but the strong arms that wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my side were far too large. I struggled to breathe, to think, and it was finally then that the scent of the man holding me sunk in. This wasn’t Ellis.

“Chiara, can you hear me? Christ, sweetheart, look at me.”

That voice was familiar, safe, but my mind was still trying to urge me to run, to get to safety before Ellis caught up again.

“You got her?” another voice asked, and the sound of it so deep and thick with rage and disgust sent a shiver down my spine.

“I have her. You got your shit locked down?” the man holding me asked.

There was a pause. “I’ve got a handle on it.”

“Sweetheart, can you hear me? I need you to say something,” the man holding me said again, his low voice softening to something soothing.

Panting, I raised my gaze to the bushy beard and further up until I met the pale blue eyes so much like his son’s, only his were filled with horror and concern.

“T-Trev?” I stammered, my voice raw.

“I’ve got you, honey, you’re safe.”

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