Page 63 of Mountain Challenge

And just like that, both men turned towards her.So much for remaining invisible.

Richard’s tongue came out to lick at his chapped lips. “I’m sorry, Miles …”

Getty made a clucking sound with his tongue that Isla supposed was meant to sound soothing. “You know what? You’re right, Richard. You’re right.”

Richard’s chin shook weakly. “I am?”

“We don’t want to hurt either woman. We’ll get them both back in the car and let them out close to town, close enough so they can walk home.”

“You’d really do that, Miles?”

“Of course. Why don’t you take off her gag first, though?”

Richard turned towards her eagerly. Isla shook her head, willing Richard to read her eyes—because there was no way Getty was letting anyone go.

“It’s okay,” Richard said. “We’re going to let you go. We’re going to—“ Isla shouted out a pointless warning against the ball gag in her mouth as Getty’s huge form rose from behind. Then his fist crashed on Richard’s temple, felling him like a tree.

It was only the start. Miles jumped on Richard’s back, slamming his fist down on his head, again and again, until blood spurted from his forehead, nose, and mouth.So much blood. Isla screamed behind the ball gag. And still Miles kept hitting, long after Richard had stopped moving.

The coppery smell of blood assaulted her senses. Isla knew, without needing to get any closer, that Richard wouldn’t be moving ever again. She’d just watched a man die. Her knees shook. She wanted to curl up on the floor, close her eyes, and?—

“There,” Miles said, sounding satisfied and slightly out of breath, like a man who’d been out for a morning jog. He looked up at her from his position, still on his knees beside his friend’s bloodied body. “Ah, well, he didn’t understand.” He rubbed his hands on his jeans, leaving rusted stains, then picked up the phone and placed it in his pocket.

“Please,” she begged, the sounds indiscernible, her tongue thick against the rubber ball. “Please let us go.”

“Now we can have some fun together. Take off your top.”

Isla’s body shook so badly, she had to steady herself against the wall. The cold from the stone seeped into her body, so that she didn’t know how much of the shaking was from cold and how much from fear.

“Take it off. Now,” he snarled. “You won’t like it if I have to do it for you.”

Isla clutched the spoon behind her back. She couldn’t let him see it. She couldn’t let him take it away from her. She placed itsurreptitiously inside the elastic of her thong, praying it would hold. It took every ounce of self-control she had to undo the bra clasp behind her back. Such a thin, light material, but it was the only protection she had left. And now she was removing it.

She kept her gaze down, not wanting to see his expression, but wasn’t able to stop herself from hearing the horrid smacking sound as his top and bottom lips came together.

“Nowthiswas worth waiting for.” She felt his shadow loom closer, and then his hands were on her breasts, his touch clinical at first, measuring the weight of first one breast, then the other. “I love these. I fucking love these. First, I’m going to lick them, and then,” he said, tugging gently at first on her nipple, then harder and harder, “when I’m good and ready, I’m going to rip these little bars out with my teeth.”

Tears filled Isla’s eyes, and she had to clench her teeth hard against the rubber ball in her mouth to keep herself from screaming. Because she knew her fear would only turn him on more.

“But first,” he said, finally, blessedly, letting go, “first I need to take out the trash. Before it starts to smell.” He moved backwards to his friend’s body, giving it a careless kick as he reached it. “I’ll be back, kitten. You wait for me and get wet thinking about me, okay? And don’t even think of putting that on again,” he said, pointing at her bra as he lifted his friend’s legs and dragged him out of the room.

The locks clicked in place. Isla’s eyesight clouded over. As if from a distance, she felt herself sliding down onto the ground, which no longer felt cold. It no longer felt anything. She looked over at Laura’s unconscious form—reminded herself she had to be strong. But the fear and the blood and the smell of the rubber against her tongue all made her realize how futile her resistance was. He was coming back, and when he did, nothing would save her.

33

Ry

“It’s there, the last house at the end of this road,” Adeline said, staring out at the storm from the inside of the warm police car.

A nice euphemism for the ill-maintained path ahead of them. If it wasn’t for the broken branches on either side, Ry would have bet nobody had been this way in months. But the broken branches said otherwise. Somebodyhadcome through recently. One of the larger hanging branches crashed to the ground, making them all jump.

“Are you sure this is the right place,MademoiselleRacine?” Vincent asked from the driver’s seat.

“I’m sure. Miles and I … we used to come here often before …” Her eyes clouded with tears. “You won’t hurt him, will you?”

If he’s hurt Isla, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.

The thought struck Ry for its intensity. He’d never thought of himself as a violent man, but he realized now he was capable of great violence. Miles Getty should fear him.

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