Page 114 of Lethal Threat
My mouth snaps shut. Terror sizzles beneath my skin like white hot electricity. Shaking overtakes my body. I have to get away.
This man is going to rape me before he kills me, unless I do.
But he’s so much bigger. My hands are bound. I’m injured. A wave of emotion hits me. This is how I’m going to end.
I feel an enormous regret. Cole would have protected me. I was too hotheaded. Too broken to see the danger.
I wish he was here.
I should have trusted him.
I love Cole.
Wait. What?
I. Love. Cole.
Now I’ll never get the chance to tell him.
And I’ll never get the chance to tell him I understand he was trying to protect me from Bryan, because whatever was happening to him was dangerous.
Far more so than either of us could have imagined.
A heavy boot pushes against my shoulder. “No! Don’t kick me!”
“I see that scares you, hotshot. What was your call sign again? Stinger?” He laughs darkly. “Let’s see how the Stinger likes to get stung.”
The air suddenly snaps around me. Every muscle in my body contracts. The bastard tasered me!
When the taser’s electric grip releases me, I scream through my clenched teeth. “You son of a bitch!”
I’m seething. Spitting mad. But as much as I want to pummel this man’s face, kick his ribs and taser him, I’m helpless.
Nothing in my body is working like it should. My wires are crossed. My head is pounding.
He gets down in my face. “Awe, look at you. You like the pain, don’t you? Sexy as fuck.”
Horror tightens my throat. I’ve never been so afraid.
The fear is cold and swift, like a sword slicing through me. It severs my senses.
The dark gleaming eyes of a monster watch me.
This is how I’m going to end. Bound. Used. Murdered by a man who gets his rocks off on watching me suffer.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
COLE
Simona’s shoulders are tight. She leans back from the laptop she has perched on the hotel room desk. “You are going to want to sit down to watch this.”
“No.”
The last thing I want to do is sit down. I’m tight as a banjo string.
All this waiting is ripping me to shreds. Sierra’s been gone for hours, and we’re sitting around waiting.
I lean over her shoulder. She huffs at me. Points at the chair, and in her Czech accent, she says, “Sit down, Cole. Daylight is burning.”
