Page 69 of Dealing Dirty
The latch unlocks with a hollowclick, and I quickly shut my eyes.
“Diablo is going to cut your fingers off for taking this one.” Alfonzo grunts as he slides his hands under my arms, not so carefully dragging me out. I force my breathing to slow, not wanting to give my conscious state away, but Bruce’s nickname scrambles my nerves.
“I don’t care what Diablo said,” Ethan says. “She’s mine now.”
I was apprehensive when he’d introduced himself to me at The Pound the first time we met, but he didn’t seem dangerous. No red flags or warning bells had screamed kidnapper.
And to think I wasthisclose to calling him a friend. What a poor judge of character I’ve been lately.
Alfonzo hands me over, and Ethan cradles me gently in his arms. “I’ll tell him it was the only way to get the biker’s daughter.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and unease skitters up my spine. “She’ll stay with me. They’ll forget all about her.”
Dear God, this man is psychotic. How could I have missed the signs?
“Yeah, right. She looks like a screamer,” Alfonzo huffs as we move toward the unknown.
Ethan chuckles deep. “Oh, I certainly hope so.”
Bile sneaks up my throat. There’s a decent chance I may see Bruce tonight, and horror uncoils low in my abdomen.
Is he meeting them some place to collect Hazel?
The steady sound of Ethan’s breathing overlays faraway road noise. I listen for clues or sounds that could give me a hint as to where we’re at. I’m too afraid to open my eyes for fear that he may be watching, but the paranoia is building.
Their footsteps are heavy as they carry me and Hazel up an incline. Torture and other horrible imaginings blend with sheer terror, making it increasingly hard to keep my breathing steady.
An eternity passes before we’re no longer trudging up a hill and my weight finally settles forward in his arms. The closer we get to where they’re taking us, the more noise breaks the silence of the cold night. Tinkling laughter carries toward us, and the distinct sound of women’s voices clashes with cheers and clinking glasses.
Ethan’s voice pulls away as he gives directions over his shoulder. “Go around back. We don’t need Jackie’s friends seeing us carrying two unconscious women.”
If I were able to move, I’d be spitting mad.That spineless traitor!I should have known.
Derrick had warned me. I chose to trust a desperate, damaged man, and look what that dirty deal got me. Kidnapped with one of the Wolves’ own, and no one will ever know who took us.
A door creaks and cheerful conversation floats past us from a distance. The scent of champagne is thick in the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of roses. Someone’s got to see us; this could be our only opportunity to escape.
Help me, please!
Could this be the party I’d overheard the women at The Pound describing those weeks ago?
No, that doesn’t seem right. The voices are fading, leaving only a handful. Not what I’d expect from the extravagant shindig they were going on about.
“Hey, you two. This way.”
I don’t recognize the voice that guides Alfonzo and Ethan down what I imagine is a hallway. I’m jostled with each step he makes down a short flight of stairs.
His lips press against my ear as hot breath nearly drives me to puking. “You’re going to taste so sweet. I’m looking forward to hearing my name from those filthy, slutty lips as I make youmine.”
Cool air slides over my skin, but it’s that possessive growl that makes my skin crawl and raises goose bumps. Ethan kicks open another door before placing my limp body awkwardly on the hard wooden floor.
I risk wiggling my toes to test my reflexes, but only one of them moves.
Alfonzo’s steps have disappeared with Hazel, leaving me petrified of being left alone with this monster.
Ethan strokes my hair tenderly before running a hand down my exposed thigh. “How wet are you for me in your sleep? Do you dream of me the way I’ve dreamed of you?”
Where Derrick’s touch electrifies, his touch leaches any heat from my flesh. The sludge-like reaction to whatever he’s drugged me with coats my insides. I want to lash out, scream, fight—but I can barely wiggle a single finger.
I was so desperate to avoid being at the mercy of a man that I sprinted straight into the arms of a psychopath. Calluses scratch my skin as he tugs my tank top down exposing a good portion of my breasts.
