Page 12 of This Thing of Ours

He let go of her left ankle and slapped her. Hard. “Shut the fuck up.”

Not a chance in hell, buddy. Defiantly, she screamed again. His hand wrapped around her throat, and he squeezed. She grabbed a hold of his forearm and wrist, pulling and yanking, but the strength in both of her arms couldn’t compete with the strength in his one.

She felt his other hand at the waistband of her jeans, but she didn’t have enough air to yell a fourth time. She was barely getting enough in to stay conscious. Blackness swam around the outskirts of her vision, and little bright stars danced before her eyes, but she refused to give in to the darkness. God knew what would happen to her if she did.

Legs once more free, she kicked, but with the position she was in, she couldn’t connect with any part of Peter’s body.

“Go ahead and fight. I like it. Makes things more exciting, don’t you think?”

He had her pants undone, and she felt his fingers at the top of her panties. She closed her eyes, giving up hope of being rescued. It wouldn’t be like the last time when he’d been interrupted by a commotion upstairs that he’d left to go investigate and had never come back.

The minimal amount of oxygen was making her lightheaded. Her head was pounding, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could fight off unconsciousness. Eyes still closed, she thought about giving in to the blackness, thinking, at that point, it would probably be for the best if she did.

Then suddenly, the pressure on her neck was gone. Her lungs, no longer fighting for air, sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes flew open in time to see Peter being hauled away from her.

Coughing and still gasping for breath, she saw Derek through a blur of tears. Rage twisted his features as he yelled something Russian in Peter’s face.

She must have blacked out for a moment because the next thing she remembered was Derek hovering over her, lightly tapping her cheek.

Her whole body jerked, and Derek placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Nobody else is going to hurt you.”

She tried to speak, but her throat was sore and only a garble of sound made it past her lips.

“Can you sit up if I help you?”

She managed to get into a sitting position with Derek’s help, and he kept a supporting arm around her back as she swallowed a few painful sips from the water bottle he held to her lips.

“I’m so sorry about this.”

She kept silent. She had nothing to say to him. Saving her from near rape didn’t atone for putting her in that position in the first place.

After another eternity of her silence, he sighed, finally getting the hint and leaving.

Feeling numb, she watched him walk up the stairs. She took another painful sip of water, knowing she needed to stay hydrated. She glanced over at the plate of food but knew she wouldn’t be able to get any of it down.

Exhausted and drained, she found her blanket within reaching distance and mushed it into a pillow. Lying on her side, she curled into a ball not caring at that point if she got a chill from the icy ground. It didn’t take long for her thoughts to drift, but she didn’t think about Peter or even Derek.

No, it was Marco’s image she fell asleep to.

Chapter Six

Marco stood perfectlystillagainst the wall for fear if he made the slightest move, he’d do something stupid. White-hot anger scorched his veins, worry and dread soured his stomach, and the need to do something, anything, tightened his muscles to the point they felt petrified into rock-hard shards under his skin. His emotions were a live wire, and it took all his control to keep himself from exploding.

Three days.

That’s how long he’d been in such a state.

That’s how long Gabriella had been missing.

That’s how long they’d been searching for the punk she’d last been seen with.

And shewasmissing. Because while Gabriella may have a bit of a stubborn streak, she would never be insensitive enough to worry her family by disappearing for so long. Which left only one conclusion. She’d been taken.

He tried not to let his imagination run wild, but in his line of work, he knew exactly what could be happening to her, and the images in his head were not pretty. The thought of never again seeing her smile or hearing her laughter did crazy things to his head. While he’d known her for ten years, watching her grow up, for the past four she’d been his obsession. He was drawn to her light, her sparkle, her wit. The loyalty and love she showed to her family—he craved to be a part of that world. But he’d kept his distance. Watched her from afar, never letting his true feelings slip because, as badly as he wanted Gabriella, he knew Nico would never approve.

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