Page 126 of An Inconvenient Marriage
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for my lungs to give out. I broke out in a coughing fit which only had the idiot laughing some more.
“You know,” he said after another long pull. “In all the years I’ve worked for your father, you were always the one I wanted to be closest to.”
In my peripheral vision, I noticed his hand getting closer to my cheek. I reacted without thinking and smacked it while twisting my head away at the same time.
“Don’t touch me.”
In a blink, he grabbed my face and dug his fingers into the hollows of my cheeks. “I’ll touch you as much as I want to.”
My skin stung where his nails grazed it.
“Do you know why?”
His face inched closer, and I almost threw up at the smell of smoke and bad breath.
“Your father promised me one entire night with you before he sells you off to the highest bidder.”
Low in my belly, my insides rolled violently. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. The idiot’s mouth was moving again, but all I heard was the loud thrashing of my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Was this the sound of defeat?
Was he going to be the last man to touch me before my father shipped me off to who knew where?
Hell no.
Drawing strength from somewhere inside me, I lifted my chin as much as I could and spat at him.
“I’d rather die than have your filthy hands anywhere near me.”
“Little bitch.” His hand came up, but it never connected with my cheek. “You can be very fucking happy that your father didn’t want a scratch on you.” Cleaning his face with one hand, he gripped my chin with the other. “I’m going to enjoy punishing you for this.”
I had no time to react to that when he grabbed my arm again and marched toward the building.
“I know how to walk, so you can let go.”
“Not until I deliver you to the boss personally.”
We walked—well, he walked, I was dragged—through the front door of the building, and my stomach dropped. The foyer was empty, the receptionist's desk abandoned. Which meant that whatever my father had planned for me was so bad, he didn’t want the minimal staff he had here hearing or seeing anything.
Oh gosh.
This time, my knees really did give out. My body folded in two, and I went down. But since Jack still had his meaty paw clamped around my arm, I limply dangled at his side.
Another one of his manic laughs crawled over my skin.
“Up you come.” With one hard tug, he pulled me up and started moving again.
There was nowhere to go. No avoiding my father and whatever depraved things he had going on inside his head. Now would be a fantastic time for a big bout of courage to flood my veins.
Just enough so I could finally tell my father he didn’t have a hold over me anymore.
Instead of taking the elevator, Jack manhandled me up the stairs. Three flights had never felt so long and brutal. I was actually somewhat relieved when we finally made it to my father’s floor.
That relief didn’t last long. The closer we got to his office, the harder my heart pounded and the more I wanted to run. And when Jack opened the door and shoved me inside, each slam of my heart against my ribs felt like hot iron strikes to my skin.
“About damn time,” my father snapped.
Jack pressed his hand between my shoulder blades and forced me forward. “Sorry, boss.”
