Page 39 of Tech

"I'll be right back; make yourself at home," he says with a smirk, then turns toward the kitchen, confusing me.

Why would the cat be in his kitchen?

The heavy feeling in my gut is weighing me down—something's not right.

Furrowing my brows, I quietly follow him, the heavy feeling intensifying, but I freeze when I see him pour powder into a glass of wine, a sinister smirk on his face.

My breathing picks up…. Was he going to drug me?

Swallowing hard, my ears ringing, I turn and quickly run toward his front door, realizing how much trouble I'm actually in, hoping he didn't see me, but as soon as my hand touches the doorknob, a hand grabs the back of my hair, then yanks me back, throwing me on the floor.

I land with a thump, my head bouncing, making me cry out as Marcus jumps on top of me, his hand going to my throat.

He grins wide, his pupils dilated, making his eyes look black as he leans down. His rancid breath hits my face, and he sneers, "Carol and Nina say hi."

My eyes widen in shock before my flight or fight instincts kick in, realizing the lengths James' momma has gone to. I smack him hard in the face, then pull his hair tightly.

He growls, lifting his head, and then slamming it forward. I cry out, my forehead throbbing when his connects with mine, dizziness over taking me.

I try to blink, pain shooting through me. He grabs my hands and holds them above my head with one of his while his other goes to my scrub pants, shoving his hand inside them and my panties.

"No!" I scream, wiggling my body, trying to pull my hands from his grip.

His fingers find my entrance, and I cry out, "Please, please, don't do this please!" as panic surrounds me, making it hard to breathe.

He laughs and shoves two of his fingers inside me, and I sob as a burning sensation hits me hard.

He growls. "Fuck, you’re tight but not fucking wet." He licks my throat.

I struggle hard, but it does nothing to stop him. He moves his fingers inside me fast, causing bile to rise in my throat, the burning sensation hurting.

"Get off, get off, get off!" I scream, and I jackknife, my head hitting his nose. I hear a crack, and he shouts in agony, his fingers pulling out of me. I quickly roll onto my side, getting onto my hands and knees. My eyes focus on the door, when a boot hits my side hard, causing me to roll over, crying out, a cough spluttering.

"You stupid bitch!" he shouts, his boot hitting my face next, making me cry out in pain. I can feel the blood on my face, but I ignore it, my focus on the door as I try to roll over and crawl.

I see his foot coming my way again, and a memory hits me….

“I cannot believe you just tripped me; I mean, where's the love, James?" I state, breathing hard, sweat coating my skin.

My lovely boyfriend thought it would be a good idea to spar with me. Something about needing to defend myself.

Don't get me wrong. I love seeing his body move when he's in the ring, and the sweat covering him makes me wet, but from the ringside, not inside it.

James grins, lifts his foot, and presses it on my stomach in victory. I laugh, grabbing hold of it before pulling, causing him to fall backward and land on his back.

We both laugh before he pounces, making me squeal and giggle as his lips land on mine.

Okay maybe sparring with him has its bonuses.

I take a deep breath, ignoring the pain in my side, and grab Marcus' foot, yanking him hard. He grunts, falling down, a heavy thump echoing. I look to see his eyes closed, blood on the side of his head, making my breaths quicken.

Did he hit his head?

Is he dead?

Christ, am I a murderer? No, no, it was self-defense!

My thoughts run wild until he groans, and I blink, realizing he's not dead, and a part of me, a small part wishes he was.

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