Page 25 of The Huntress and Her Hound

“Get the fuck up,” he barks, his dress shoe colliding with the middle of my left thigh. “And get undressed.”

Bail. You need to bail now.

“Actually, I think I’m going to go,” I say, pushing myself up off the floor. I have a hard rule that when something goes wrong, I fucking leave. There’s no point in taking a risk that might end with the police. And it’s only ever happened one other time—when a guy tried to call all his friends to partake.

“No, you’re not going anywhere.” Samuel reaches down, his fingers threading through my hair. He yanks me upward, setting me on my knees. “You’re going to suck this dick. Now.”

I shake my head. “No.”

He cackles. “You think you have a choice? No.” Fisting my hair with one hand, he undoes his pants, pulling himself out. “Open up, cunt.” The tip of him brushes my lips, and I fight the urge to vomit. However, it’s just the beginning of my body coming to life in his hands.

Anger simmers. My demons scream so loud in my ears, I can’t hear anything else but the chants of their deep voices to do something about this disgrace.

I glare up at Samuel. “Your dick reeks of disease.”

His face reddens. “You need to learn your place.” As soon as the words come out of his mouth, he sends me backward as hard as he can. I careen like a ragdoll, my back slamming into the wall so hard I lose my breath. He laughs. “You’re not much of a fighter, are you?”

Samuel, the trust fund baby, comes at me then, grabbing my shirt by the hole over my cleavage. He rips it open, exposing my black lace bra. I kick at him, but it does nothing. I knew it wouldn’t. My heart thrums in my ears, panic looming overhead like a bolt of electricity, waiting to stun my body.

‘He’s just another asshole. Show him you wanna play along. That’s what he wants from you. Give him it.’

Blinking away the haze, I undo the front snap of my bra, giving him a view of my breasts. “Is that better, Samuel? Is this what you want?”

He looks at me with pure disgust.

And then punches me in the side of the face.

I gasp as copper fills my mouth and my hand flies up to the aching spot. What the fuck was that for? I eye him, bracing for what’s coming.

“I’m going to make you another drink, Emily. And this time, you’ll drink it. I don’t like women who speak. It’s a fucking nuisance. Just open your legs and shut up.”

“Fuck you,” I growl, my tone ice cold. I lunge for him, and he yelps as his body buckles. I take him down, climbing on top of him as his back slams against the carpet.

“Bitch,” he spats as I throw my own fist at his nose. Red blood seeps from his nostrils, but it doesn’t stop him from grabbing for my shoulders and slinging me sideways, knocking my head into the side of the couch.

My visions darkens for a moment, and it takes me a few beats to register him pulling at my jeans, tugging them down over my hips. The action triggers panic, and I realize as I reach to try and stop him, I’m still disoriented from the hit.

“You little fucking...” I don’t hear what else he says as he slams me over onto my back. I kick again, but my legs aren’t working right.

No, no, no... Am I shutting down?

That’s what I always did when he came for me. Everything stopped functioning. He got what he wanted without much effort after the first couple of times. The voice cackles in my head.

‘He’s going to get you, little girl.’

‘He’s going to crush you.’

My teeth begin to chatter as he forces my legs apart, his figure a terrifying shadow above me. I reach up to cover my ears as the voices wail louder than my own thoughts. The man above me freezes, and at first, I think he’s the one making the high-pitched scream.

But then I realize it’s me. It’s me.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouts, leaning away from me. “Stop doing that. Shut up!”

But I don’t. And suddenly, I can see clearer.

Samuel’s dark eyes are stark wide as I rise upward. I drop my hands from my head, the pulsing screams quieting.

“You’re fucking nuts,” he says, repugnance etched in his features.

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