Page 63 of Cold Foot Revenge
The police officers were stepping out of their cruisers, and this was her chance.
“Be cool,” Donnie warned her from the seat directly behind her, but she had big plans to be absolutely not cool.
Grave waited for her outside to get out, and then beside him, she approached the officers.
I need help, she mouthed to the one looking directly at her.
He frowned. Officer Cunningham, his nametag read.Please help me!
“What’s that?” Grave asked, eyed on her.
Desperate, she sought sanctuary. “I need help. I’m being held against my will. These men have taken me and are forcing me to—Aach!”
Grave’s hand on the back of her neck paralyzed her into stillness. “That’s enough,” he murmured near her ear, and then released her, and wrapped his big hand around hers, crushing her bones. “Officer Cunningham, Officer Lange, I asked you to park your cruisers out back when you come here. Police presence is bad for business.”
Wait, what?
“Oh, we hear you, but last night was messy. We have to let the businesses on this street think we’re taking it seriously.” Officer Lange nodded toward the door. “Shall we?”
“After you,” Grave said in a friendly tone.
What. The. Hell.
Leech laughed as he passed her by to follow the officers inside. “You thought they were here to help you?” He turned and walked backward through the open door. “They’re with us.”
Her hand was aching under Grave’s crushing grasp, and he yanked her toward the door so hard, she gasped at the shock of it.
“You’re asking for it,” he said in warning, his eyes flashing with fury. “I’m going to have to work harder and spend more time training you, aren’t I, Pet?”
“I’m not your pet—”
Her air was cut off with his hand around her throat. He’d been fast about it, moving in a blur, and she couldn’t breathe in an instant. He drove her directly back to the wall inside and slammed her against it, then kissed her hard and bit her lip while she struggled to loosen his hand from her esophagus.
She couldn’t breathe! Strangled sounds escaped her, and she kicked and flailed, pleading with her coyote to Change. She couldn’t even feel her right now.
Time slowed as the door opened beside her, and Nick walked in, carrying the pole he’d used to put her name up in lights. He stopped and looked at her.
“Help. Me!” she wheezed out, barely a sound escaping her.
Nick looked down and kept walking.
Nick, the bartender who had been nice to her over the years. The guy who showed her the resumes and told her about the Turn Doses in the office. Nick, her only ally here. He just kept walking.
Grave released her and she fell to her knees on the floor, gasping to fill her burning lungs with oxygen. It was hard to breathe even now, as if he’d crushed her throat. Tears streamed down her face, but it wasn’t from the pain. It was from the anger.
This wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay! It wasn’t okay to treat someone like this, and the whole Crew—her Crew!—pretend it was okay or deserved!
“Hey, Nick,” Grave called.
“Yes, sir?” Nick asked, turning around.
“Go find our little star something to wear for her shift. She’ll be the only dancer this morning, but she’s looking a little…used up.
Her bag. She needed her bag. Her phone would be in there. “My bag,” Roxy croaked out, reaching for him to stop him from leaving. “I have clothes in my bag.”
Nick glanced at Grave, and then back to Roxy. “There are outfits in the dressing room. Come on.”
He was telling her no to getting her bag? Why? Why was he being like this?
