“Then I’m glad I took her drink instead, you pathetic ass. I’m glad it’s me so you can’t hurt her.”
“Whatever,” he mutters like it’s no big deal, like it’s more of a minor annoyance that he drugged the wrong girl instead of a horrific crime against an unsuspecting woman. “I’m getting laid tonight either way.” His words pierce through my foggy brain and send a shiver of pure fear down my spine. He grins at me and presses his hips against mine so I can feel how aroused he is. “I’ll just pretend you’re her. I always did have a good imagination.”
When he starts to unzip his jeans, I start to panic. “You can’t do this,” I say, hearing the tremor in my voice and then feeling it as it works its way through my body. I start shaking bad enough to make my teeth click, and when I try to push him off, he smacks me hard enough to spin my head to the side. My vision goes spotty and my eyes water as I feel blood start to drip from my nose.
His hands are rough on my skin, tugging on my shirt, and all I can think is that Sasha would never treat me like this. The maskedpsychowho’s killed over a hundred people and has a real obsession with blood would never treat me like this, and here the perfect Alpha frat boy, the one all the professors adore and any parent would love to see on their daughter’s arm is minutes away from raping me. The irony is too much for mybrain to handle. My mind might be slow and locked in fear and shock, but my body still tries like hell to break free.
I feel my lungs start to close, the unmistakable beginnings of an asthma attack, but there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. My inhaler is sitting in the console of the Jeep that’s still parked at the club, but then my panicked brain remembers the knife Sasha bought for me, the one I promised to keep with me at all times. I swear I can feel the weight of it in my pocket, and knowing it’s so close helps to calm me down. He has both my wrists in one hand while he paws at my clothes. I struggle against him, putting everything I have into it, and when his hold on me doesn’t falter, I let out a ragged, panicked breath.
“Let me go!” I scream again, ignoring the wheezy sound I’m making and putting everything I have into fighting him and getting to my knife, but it’s not enough, and I feel the weight of what’s about to happen sink into me.
Just as I’m about to lose all hope, the door to the room opens, and even though my vision is still spotty, I instantly recognize the tall, muscular build and broad shoulders. I let out a sigh of relief. My body relaxes, knowing I don’t need to fight anymore. Ben, oblivious to what’s going on, grunts his approval at my submission and pulls his zipper down the rest of the way.
He doesn’t even get a chance to pull his dick out before Sasha wraps his hand around the front of his neck. I hear the pained groan and see his eyes widen in fear and then pain, and I know the knife is slowly sliding into his body.
Sasha’s light-blue eyes stay locked on mine as he leans in and presses his forehead to mine. Ben is still between us, but I no longer need to worry about him. He can’t hurt me anymore, and I know there’s no way Sasha would ever be so careless as to let the blade exit Ben’s body and pierce mine. He knows exactly when to stop, the precise depth and angle that he needs to use, and how to make it hurt the most.
“I’m so sorry,krovinka,” he whispers. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
The pain in his voice hurts worse than anything Ben did to me. Now that my arm is free, I reach up and rest my hand against the back of his neck, letting my fingers curl into his hair. I press my lips to his, needing the connection, needing to know that he’s here and real and not a figment of my drug-addled brain.
He groans when our lips touch. Blood still drips from my nose, and the groan he gives when he tastes it is one of pure rage at the reminder that I was hurt before he could get to me. I pull back in surprise when I hear the moan Ben gives. I thought he was dead, but he’s not. Sasha steps back and throws Ben onto the bed. Before putting his attention on him, he cups the back of my head and looks me over. He takes in every single detail from my torn shirt to my messed up hair and to the bloody nose I’d gotten right before he walked in. When he hears me wheeze again, he pulls an inhaler from his pocket and holds it to my lips. The memory of our first night hits me hard when he presses down on the cartridge and I breathe in the medicine. When I’ve let it out, he does it once more before putting it back in his pocket. I’m so touched by the fact that he’s started carrying around a spare inhaler that my eyes start to tear up as my lungs slowly feel like they’re unclenching and allowing me a full breath.
“I couldn’t get to my knife,” I say. “I’m sorry. I tried, but I couldn’t get to it.”
His face softens as he leans in to kiss me. “None of this is your fault. You did great, and I’m so proud of you,krovinka.”
When the first tear escapes, he gently brushes it aside and asks, “What all did he do to you?”
I see the wild look in his eyes and the darkness that’s threatening to consume him, so I quickly say, “This was it. He smacked me. He didn’t have time to do anything else.”
“He didn’t touch you?” he asks. “Kiss you, paw at you?”
When I hesitate, I swear I see his knuckles flex as he grips the knife tighter.
“Tell me.” His tone is low and controlled and it’s all the scarier for it.
“He grabbed my breasts,” I admit, “and my ass.”
He waits just long enough to say, “Don’t watch,krovinka. I don’t want you to see what I’m about to do.”
Despite what he just said, I can’t look away. I watch as Sasha yanks on Ben’s pants, pulling them off with a quick, sharp tug. Ben groans in protest, but he’s in too much pain and losing too much blood from wherever the hell Sasha stabbed him to do much about it. When he’s naked from the waist down, I watch in morbid fascination as Sasha grabs onto the limp dick and balls.
“This is for touching what’s mine,” he says, and then slices them clean off with a quickness that speaks of more than just a sharp knife. This is obviously not Sasha’s first time doing this. I sway on my feet, nearly vomiting at the sight of Ben’s hacked off genitals and the large open wound that he’s left with.
Ben groans, probably wishing death would come a lot faster than it is. Sasha’s not done, though, and before I can witness what comes next, a large man steps in front of me, blocking my view.
“Come on, Cindy, come wait with me in the hall.”
I look up at Sasha’s dad, and I must nod, because he gently grabs my arm and slowly leads me into the hall while he tells Sasha that I’m safe and that I’ll be waiting with him. Mia’s already out there, looking just as badass as she usually does instead of pale and shaky like me. Her eyes are lit up with excitement, and it’s obvious she thrives on this.
“You okay?” She walks over and cups my face so she can get a good look at my nose. She gently feels around and smiles. “It’s not broken. Man, I bet Sasha lost it when he saw this.” Tiltingto the side, she peers over my shoulder and lets out a soft laugh. “Oh yeah, definitely lost it.” I know she’s not much of a hugger, but she surprises me by wrapping me up in a big hug. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” she whispers before letting go and walking off to join her cousins.
The hallway is filled with Melnikov men who are helping the other women get free of this place. When I see Brittney, I holler at her, and she comes running over to me.
“Oh my god,” she says, crying and hugging me tightly. “What the hell is happening? Who are these people, Cindy?” With her arms still holding me, she looks around in a panic. “Are they going to kill us too?”
“No, Brittney. I promise you’re safe,” I tell her. I pat her back, trying to soothe her as she cries onto my shoulder. “They’re here to help us.”