Page 95 of Bad Luck, Hard Love
“I didn't—” I start, but the words dissolve into a whimper as fragmented memories surface. His hands. His breath. The taste of blood in my mouth.
“Oh, but you did,” Terrance purrs. “You called his name. Over and over. 'Thor, please help me.' It was almost heartbreaking. Makes my dick hard just thinking about it.”
Thor's face contorts with rage so pure it's terrifying. The zip ties binding his wrists strain against his fury, plastic cutting into flesh until blood drips onto the concrete. “When I get out of these restraints?—”
“You won't.” Terrance straightens, smoothing down his suit jacket. “Because in about ten minutes, you'll be dead. And Charlotte will be on a plane to somewhere very far away, where she'll learn to be grateful for what I give her.”
“The club will come,” Thor rasps, spitting blood. “Raze will tear this place apart looking for us.”
“Your club?” Terrance laughs, the sound echoing off the walls. “They’re dropping like flies. The rest won't get here in time.” He snaps his fingers at the men holding Thor. “Keep him on his knees. I want him to see this.”
Terror floods through me as Terrance turns toward me. The drugs in my system have started to fade just enough for panic to slice through the fog. I'm suddenly, horrifically aware.
“No. No. No.” I try to shrink away as he approaches the bed. My restraints bite into my wrists, metal cutting deeper into already raw skin. “Please, don't.”
“Showtime, baby,” Terrance purrs, loosening his tie with practiced fingers. The silk slides through his collar with a softhiss that turns my blood to ice. “I think it's time we give your boyfriend a proper demonstration of what marriage looks like.”
Thor thrashes against his captors, a strangled roar tearing from his throat. “I'll fucking kill you!”
One of the men slams a fist into Thor's kidney, doubling him over. The other forces his head up, making him watch.
“Now, now,” Terrance says, placing his tie neatly across the foot of the bed. “A good audience stays quiet during the performance.”
He begins unbuttoning his shirt cuffs, methodical as a surgeon preparing for an operation. His movements are slow and deliberate as he rolls up each sleeve with precision, revealing tanned forearms adorned with an expensive watch that catches the harsh light. The calculated patience of his movements terrifies me more than any rage ever could.
“You're going to watch. You're going to see what she really is. What she's always been.”
He moves toward me with predatory grace, and I feel myself shrinking into the mattress, trying to disappear. The restraints bite deeper as I pull against them, panic overriding everything else.
His hand cups my cheek in a grotesque parody of affection. “Shhh, Charlotte. You said you'd be mine again. Time to prove it.”
The bed dips as he sits beside me, his weight pulling me toward him like a black hole I can't escape. His fingers trace my collarbone, dancing across bruises he's already left, before sliding lower to the tatters of my shirt.
“I've always loved how you beg,” he murmurs, turning his attention back to Thor. “Does she beg for you too, biker? Does she whimper your name when you fuck her?”
His fingers grip the remnants of my shirt, tearing it completely off with a swift, violent motion. The cool air hits myexposed skin, raising goosebumps across flesh already marked by his earlier assault.
“No,” I choke out, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.
“Orders, boss?” one of the men holding Thor asks, struggling to contain him as he thrashes against their grip.
“Break his fingers if he keeps fighting,” Terrance says without looking away from me. “One by one. But make sure he can still see.”
Thor goes still, his breathing ragged and harsh in the silence that follows. Our eyes lock across the room—his filled with helpless rage.
“That's better,” Terrance purrs, running his hand up my inner thigh. “Now we can proceed without interruption.”
His touch leaves trails of revulsion on my skin. I try to retreat into my mind, to find that dissociative space I used to go to during our marriage, but the drugs have stripped away that defense. I'm trapped in my body, feeling everything with horrific clarity.
“Not like this. Not in front of him.”
Terrance's smile widens, revealing teeth that seem too sharp. “That's exactly why it has to be like this. He needs to understand what you are.” His fingers dig into my flesh.
“Look at me,” Terrance commands, seizing my chin in a vise-like grip. “I want you to remember every second of this.”
My body is a traitor, too weak from the drugs to fight him as he positions himself between my legs. Behind him, Thor's agonized roar is muffled as one of the men shoves something into his mouth—a bandana, I realize, watching him gag against the fabric.
“Just like old times.”
