Page 19 of Hard Limits

They splashed in a hypnotic rhythm, one after the other, forming a small puddle of water. His grunts were loud, breaking through the silence as he masturbated in front of me. His breath smelled of stale beer and his scruff brushed against my cheek as he leaned into me.

A gutted response escaped my lips as the sting of the slap startled me, the familiar taste of blood once again clung to my lips. My head hung down in defeat, and my eyes were now focused on him. His massive dick angling against my core and as his fluids flowed out onto my body, I vomited all over him.

“Fucking whore!”

The last thing I remembered was his hand raising, a sharp pain, and then that unexpected comforting darkness. But there was something that echoed in the darkness. The voice of the only man I trusted fluttered through me as my eyes fell closed.

CHAPTER TWELVE

ERIC

The rage in me was like a violent wave, it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. And lying beneath it, was fear. True, unequivocal fear. The fear of being torn apart from the one you love.

Love. Such a fickle word. But yes, love. I loved her. I knew it as I stood there while this monster touched what was mine. Anger flooded my senses and hands itched to kill. Murder. Destroy him.

“Do. Not. Move,” I gritted out as I raised the silencer, the red beam focused on his temple.

He turned, and I got a full view of her. My heart dropped when I saw the barrel of his gun pressed against her temple. My eyes darted from him to the precious limp form of my lover behind him.

“Uh-uh-uh, careful now, hero.” He pressed the gun to her temple, tipping her head to the side. “Wouldn’t want to accidentally blow her brains out.”

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

Blood covered her face, crimson droplets leaked from her breasts and down her thighs. Red was the only color I saw. Clutching the gun, I prepared to kill the son of a bitch. One shot, and it would be over, but that would be too easy. The motherfucker needed to suffer. He had to suffer.

“What did you think, hero, that I wouldn’t come after you? That I was stupid enough to not notice what you were doing?” He smirked sarcastically and my finger trembled on the trigger.

It would be so easy.

Just pull it.

“After that last conversation we had, I knew something was up. Red warned me to be careful with you. You like doing shit your way, and only your way. Shit like that don’t work with me. See, because shit goes my way, or you die.

“Well shit ain’t goin your way no more, hero. You can’t be taking shit that ain’t yours. Ain’t it funny how things end?”

I kept quiet, slowly making my way towards the opposite wall, keeping my distance as the gun’s red light told me one move, and he’d die instantly.

“Eh, eh, eh, where you goin’ there? Stay still killer. Wouldn’t want to turn my gun on you when it’s on this pretty little thing. She’s a good piece of ass, ain’t she? I bet you had a good time with her.”

He looked at me and sneered. “I’m gonna have to kill her. Can’t be fucking somethin’ used.”

“Son of a bitch!” I yelled out as his hand squeezed her breast and a whimper fell from her lips. The pain transpiring into her unconscious state. “Don’t. Touch. Her,” I gritted.

His cynical laughter grated on my nerves. If he would just point the gun at me, that’s all I needed. That one window.

“She’s mine. I can do whatever the fuck I want with her. Or what? You gonna stop me, hero.”

“I’m gonna fucking tear your heart out!”

“I’d like to see you try,” he smiled and that’s when he moved.

His gun swung towards me and I fired two shots. One at his hand, which sent the gun off and flung it back. The second was to his right knee, which brought him down quick. I tucked the gun behind my back and lifted his screaming ass into the metal chair. Taking the rope that was lying on the floor I secured his hands behind him, binding each ankle to a chair leg. He screamed in agony as I moved his leg, it was drenched in blood and he smelled of piss. Motherfucker had pissed himself.

I looked down at him in disdain and grabbing his hair, I tugged his head back. “I’m not gonna be the one to kill you. No. That, I’ll leave up to her.”

I looked back at my Aracely, bound and mangled, dangling behind us. He was a sadist, a sick fuck who got his kicks off from torturing women. My glare focused back on him and he shook, because he knew that if she said no, I was still going to rip his fucking soul out.

Gently, I undid the chains that bound Aracely’s wrists, she groaned, and I cooed at her that everything was going to be okay, that I was here. Her eyes fluttered open as I was finally able to get her down. Taking my jacket off, I wrapped it around her cold body. She whimpered as I placed it around her delicate shoulders. She was going to bruise, and God knows if she had any broken limbs.

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