Page 68 of Dangerous Command
He might still hate me. Even now.
He handed me his gun. Loaded. Heavy.
“What are you doing?” I asked quickly, my words panicked.
“You asked why I haven’t killed you yet,” he said. “I’m giving you that option.”
“What?”
He stared at me, waiting for me to do something. “You want out? You want to kill me?” He pushed the gun forward. “Here it is.”
But all I wanted was to survive. To do more. For Mack. For me.
For Derek.
How could I be myself and still be someone who was indebted to Derek? Derek came forward, standing in front of me, so close that I could smell the leather of his boots mixed with rain. The inevitability of the situation was gruesome. I needed Derek. I should have never put myself in a situation where I had to trust him, but I had. And I couldn’t go. Not until I knew he would protect Mack. Even if it meant that he protected Mack before me.
I fell to my knees.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“And why can’t you?”
“I need to protect Mack.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know.”
He pulled me to my feet, then guided me back to the bed, making me lie down. He brushed the hair out of my face, so gentle that it hurt. I slapped him, a red handprint on his face. Then he grabbed my chin and pinched hard until I opened my mouth and he spat into my mouth again, making me swallow it, forcing me to understand that this wasn’t about what I deserved. This was about what he wanted.
What I knew I wanted too.
I had done this to myself. I had no choice but to simply be his.
He kissed me then, his tongue deep inside of my mouth, trying to communicate with everything we had left. His body pressed into mine, the anger swelling in his eyes. He released the sides of my face, wiping away my tears. He took off his wet shirt, his eyes heavy on me.
“I don’t deserve this,” I said.
I don’t deserve you, Derek. Not anyone. But especially not you.
“I never said I was a fair leader,” he said in a low voice.
The wet clothes gripped my body, but he yanked all of it off, and I let him. And when he pressed against me, his naked body on mine, his cock thick against my thighs, all I wanted was to feel him, to know that he was there, that this was all we had. Another hotel room. Another dead body. Another day. Another night, where this was just us. One day, it would be my dead body, and Derek would know the truth.
But still, some sick, messed up part of me believed in Derek, that he wouldn’t hold it against Mack. Derek may have made it his mission to end Muro, but he knew that Mack didn’t have an evil bone in his body, even if he had my stepdad’s blood.
Even if Derek had taught Mack the power of violence.
He ripped the belt from his pants and slammed it across my breasts, a purple lash seared across me, drops of rain flying. Tears came crashing down and I screamed and cried, and he did it again, and yet I was grateful for this punishment. Grateful for this moment where my worst pain wasn’t my past.
“Please,” I cried. “Please. Fuck me. Use me. Hurt me.”
Derek stared at me, his face emotionless. “I’ll fuck you if I want to,” he murmured.
“Please,” I whispered desperately, my mind disappearing.
“Beg me,” he ordered.
