Page 52 of His Dark Pull

I nod, my throat parched, my lips cracked and dry. He lifts the glass, a gesture that promises relief of cool water cascading down my burning throat. But instead of bringing it to my lips, he brings it to his own, tilting his head back and draining the contents in two long, deliberate gulps.

I watch, my body screaming in protest, every cell crying out for hydration. The sight of the water disappearing, stolen from me in a cruel display of power, makes my cheeks crimson.

Kovacs lowers the glass, a sly grin twisting his lips. “This is just the beginning, Ava,”he drawls, his voice a low purr. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

With a surge, I summon the last vestiges of my strength and spit at his feet, the glob of saliva landing with a wet plop on the concrete floor. “You bastard,”I hiss, my voice hoarse. “Let me go.”

He chuckles, a harsh, humorless sound that echoes in the small room. “We can’t let you go just yet,”he replies, his eyes glinting with a cruel amusement. “You’re still useful to us. Alexander won’t dare mess up any mission knowing we have you here.”

“I’m not telling you anything,”I spit.

His smile vanishes, replaced by a chilling coldness that leaves an icy fire in its wake. He leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Suit yourself, pretty girl,”he hisses. “But if you don’t talk, you’ll be taken to see the boss. And trust me, it won’t be as pleasant as our little chat today.”

I meet his eyes with a defiant glare. My fists clenched behind my back, my nails digging into my palms. I won’t break, won’t give in to their threats and intimidation. I won’t betray Alexander, won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.

* * *

A shove sends me stumbling into the cell. The heavy steel door clangs shut like a tomb sealing behind me. I sink to the cold concrete, my body shaking uncontrollably. Kovacs’s face, his eyes like chips of ice, his smile a cruel twist of his lips, flashes in the darkness. And the “boss”he’d mentioned – the thought is a cold hand squeezing the air from my lungs.

Time stretches into a torture of its own. Every tick of my watch is a hammer blow against the silence. Then, the scrape of boots on concrete, the groan of metal hinges. A shadow looms in the doorway, a tray rattling in his hands. Water. My throat burns, but I press my lips together, my back against the rough wall. Trust no one, my instincts scream.

He’s a mountain of a man, his shaved head gleaming under the dim bulb. Lines, like cracks in granite, etch his face. He sets the tray down with a thud and leans against the wall, his eyes like a pair of hungry wolves, stripping me bare.

“Well, well,”he drawls, his voice a rusty hinge. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, ain’t you?”

I shrink back, pressing myself against the cold concrete wall, trying to disappear into the shadows. He takes a step closer, the heat of his body radiating towards me, making me feel trapped and vulnerable.

Just like with Cole.

“I’ve been thinking about you,”he continues, his voice a low growl. “Ever since I laid eyes on you earlier. You’ve got something special, something that sets you apart from other women. You’re a spicy one.”He reaches out, his hand moving towards me with a slow deliberation that makes my heart pound in my chest.

I scoot away, putting as much distance between us as the small cell allows. His eyes follow me, hungry and eager, filled with a darkness I recognize all too well. It’s the look of a predator, a man who sees me not as a person but as prey.

“You know,”he says, his voice a low, seductive purr, “I think I could make you real happy. I could show you things you’ve never seen before. Fuck you in ways you’ve never been fucked.”

His words are a threat, a promise of something unwanted. My body trembles with the urge to fight back, to scream, to do anything to escape his presence.

Just as I’m about to unleash the fury that simmers within me, a voice from the hallway interrupts. “Hey! What are you doing in there?”

The guard steps back reluctantly, his eyes lingering on me with a look of frustrated desire. “I’ll be back,”he promises, his voice a low growl before he turns and disappears through the cell door.

I collapse onto the floor, my body shaking uncontrollably.

Chapter 16

The Big Boss

The cold concrete bites into my skin. Each breath is a shallow rasp as I fight to control the tremors that wrack my body. I squeeze my eyes shut, seeking refuge in the darkness behind my eyelids, but it offers no escape. The image of Kovacs, his cold eyes and cruel smile, haunts me. And the thought of this “boss” he mentioned— a chill creeps down my spine, settling like a stone in the pit of my stomach.

Hours crawl by. Time stretches and distorts, each minute an eternity. The silence is a living thing, pressing down on me, suffocating me. The musty air hangs heavy, thick with the stench of mildew and despair. Every creak of the building, every distant groan of metal against metal, makes me jump.

Then I hear it – a shuffling noise outside the door. My heart leaps into my throat, hammering against my ribs. I hold my breath, listening intently. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate. Coming closer. They stop right outside my cell. I shrink back against the wall, my muscles coiled tight, ready to spring. But there’s nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

A key rattles in the lock. The metallic clang reverberates through my bones. The door creaks open. I can’t see anything. Darkness presses in from all sides.

“You’re a tough one, aren’t you?”

The voice is a low rumble, a sound I’ve heard before, but it dances on the edge of my memory, refusing to reveal its source. I press my lips together, a thin, defiant line. I won’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

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