Page 11 of Tower

The door shut again and Azalea appeared in the doorway.

“What’s going on?” she asked. She surveyed the room, taking in the scene before her. “Peter?” She stopped at him.

“Ten grand, is that right, Santos?” Peter ignored her presence and focused on the scum standing before him.

“Ten.” He nodded, his little eyes scanning over to Azalea then back at him. “She’s not mine.”

“I know.” Peter holstered his gun. “She’s mine, now.”

“I mean, she’s not mine to give,” Santos said, this time turning his head toward her. “Tell him, Azalea.”

“I didn’t ask her opinion. I don’t give a fuck who she belonged to before, she’s mine, now, and the ten grand is forgiven.”

“What are you talking about?” Azalea stepped farther into the room. “I’m not going with you.”

Peter still didn’t look at her.

“I can’t let you take her.” Santos trod forward, more of a plea for understanding than a threat, but Daniel yanked his gun out and trained it on him.

“You don’tletus do anything, you asshole. She’s coming with us. Whatever your issues with that-—are yours, and I don’t give a flying fuck.”

Peter walked behind Daniel and gave Travis and Johnny a nod. They’d stand down unless Daniel needed help, which he wouldn’t.

“I’m not going with you,” Azalea said in a demanding voice. He cupped her elbow, but she yanked free and jumped back. “I’m not going.”

Peter strode closer to her, and when she retreated, he stepped again, walking her back against the wall. Leaning in closer, he inhaled her scent. The freshly washed, sweet scent of the innocent woman he was going to corrupt.

“Rule one, you don’t tell me what you will and won’t do.” He grabbed her chin, pressing his fingers into her face until she winced. “You are coming with me. And you won’t give me any fucking trouble, or what you saw at Tower the other night will be the tip of the iceberg for you when we get home.”

Her eyes widened at his promise.

“You don’t fucking understand,” Santos said, panic lacing his words. “You can’t fucking take her.”

“Too late.” Moving his hand from her face to her arm, Peter gripped her bicep and walked to the front door, dragging her along.

“No.” She pulled back, but he didn’t stop. He intensified his grip and yanked her along the way. “No! Peter! No!” she yelled and smacked at his hand.

Fear embedded her demands to be let go. Poor girl didn’t realize how much more that made him want her.

When he got to his car, he pulled his gun back out and pressed it against her back until she stopped fighting him. “Get in the car, Azalea. If you get back out, if you run, you will regret it. I will keep you safe, but you have to fucking listen to me. Any deviation from my directions, and you’ll find out the consequences.”

“Safe?” she hissed. “You’re kidnapping me!” she yelled into the chilled wind of the night.

Peter glanced around. No crowd had formed, but if she kept up her fit, the neighbors would come to investigate.

“Don’t make me gag you. Get in the fucking car.”

“No.” She shook her head and tugged again. “Fuck you.” She spat at him, missing his face but getting his shoulder.

“Not on your first night. But if you’re really good, maybe tomorrow.” He pulled away from her, pushing the barrel of his gun into her back. She stilled, but it wasn’t enough. She’d spat at him!

He yanked on her dress, a flimsy cotton thing, until her ass was exposed. Round, pert…fucking perfect.

“Peter.” She didn’t yell this time, probably not wanting to draw attention to them now that her ass was on display to the neighborhood.

He brought his left hand back and landed it on her ass three times in a row, same spot, same severity, eliciting the same muffled screech from her with each one. The darkness of the night, and the cotton panties she wore hid the blush of her ass from him, but he knew it was there. Knew the heat had been created. She stopped struggling.

“Get in, Azalea, or do you need more motivation?”

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