Page 10 of Marked

The intruder stopped short of the bathroom light, but the yellow glow still touched his form. Black jeans and a heather-gray T-shirt covered his body. Tattoos spattered his arms all the way down to his knuckles, and a gun—her gun—hung loosely in his hand.

His dark eyes glittered like wet rocks, and the scruff on his face was almost as black as the hair on his head. Murder and sin emanated from his pores like the acrid scent of death, almost overpowering the undercurrents of his sage-and-leather cologne.

Cole.

The blood in her veins turned to ice, frosting her skin from the inside out. He’d kill her. Leave her for dead and then finish off with Bella.

There was a chance that he didn’t know she had a daughter. If he didn’t, she needed to stay quiet. Waking Bella would put her in harm’s way. But remaining silent while this bastard tried to kill her would be another task altogether.

Please, God. Don’t let my little girl find me dead in the morning.

She had to act.

In one swift movement, she grabbed the base of the lamp and swung. Cole turned, and the blow struck his shoulder.

He caught the lamp and jerked it from her hold. The action made her stumble forward. He tossed the lamp onto the bed and his free hand seized her, slamming her roughly against the wall. The back of her head connected with the drywall, and she winced. His hand stayed at the spot between her neck and shoulder, his thumb touching the hollow of her throat.

A million curses flooded her mind. She needed to fight so Bella didn’t end up dead or motherless, but the stark fear of waking her daughter had immobilized her senses.

“Seems like you’ve lost a lot of fight.” His lips curled into a smirk.

She sucked all the fluid from her mouth and spat. His head snapped backward as her spit hit his cheek.

“Fuck you,” she hissed.

His face scrunched as he lifted the hem of his shirt—revealing even more ink and a stacked, muscular abdomen—and wiped it away. The hand on her neck grew heavier. Harder. As if it took great effort for him not to crush her windpipe.

“You’ve got a fucking death wish, I see.” He snorted. His hand moved up her throat, and the warning bells in her head kicked into overdrive.

All fear left her body. Only survival instincts remained.

She jammed her fist into his abdomen. He crunched forward, but not enough to break his hold. Then she jerked her knee toward his groin, but he blocked the blow. A sick laugh rumbled in his throat as he raised the gun to her head, but before he could pull the trigger, she slammed her palm into his inner elbow and knocked his wrist with her other hand, sending the gun to the floor.

Yes!

He bent, but she kicked it out of his reach. The weapon skittered under the bed. The movement made her towel slide down her chest, and she pinned it to her breasts again.

He cursed and clamped his hands on her hips, ready to throw her into the wall again, but his gaze dipped to her cleavage. For a moment, he froze.

If she had to fight him naked, so be it.

She jammed her flexed hand into his Adam’s apple. Cole coughed and choked, his weight buckling against her, anchoring her to the wall.

“You fucking—bitch,” he spat.

Sweat coated her skin. He was an ox. She needed a weapon. Something. Anything to take him out.

At least his chest pressing against hers kept the terrycloth somewhat in place. He grabbed her left wrist, his palm hot and damp, cutting off the blood flow and slamming her knuckles to the wall.

No. If he got her other hand secured, she’d be screwed. He was too strong. Too powerful.

She swung her elbow at his head, aiming the sharp bone at anything she could reach. Temple. Jaw. Whacking over and over. Pain shot up her arm, but she didn’t stop.

He growled loudly and caught her bicep, taking that arm into his control too. His bent face lifted until it was inches from her lips. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Contempt leaked from his words. A promise to make her death long and painful.

His gaze swept over her face then dipped to their meshed bodies before moving back up. He could do just about anything—beat her, kill her... rape her. And she’d be next to defenseless.

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