Page 135 of The Good Girl

“You keep your pretty mouth shut, and I’ll take it easy on you.”

He drags the knife up my neck to my chin before he traces it over my lips. I can tell the blade is small and narrow, but this close, he’ll still do some serious damage. I don’t move, too scared to try anything. If I were Amity, I’d have him in a fucking headlock by now instead of whimpering underneath him like a coward.

“My brother always was a fucking dumbass. This is why he should never been made president. He fucking tricked his way into that role and cheated me out of mine. He thinks I’m just going to let that go?”

My eyes flit around, looking for something, anything that will help.

He presses the knife against the corner of my eye before he lifts it and licks away my tear. The knife is back at my throat before I can process the fact he didn’t gouge my eye out when he had the chance.

“If you’re looking for your guard today, don’t bother. He won’t be coming to rescue anyone anytime soon.” He grins before dipping his head and covering my mouth with his.

I resist the urge to bite his tongue off, just waiting for a chance where I can make a run for it. He has to let his guard down sometime.

“You killed him?” I feel my heart crack at the thought of Probe being gone. I should have known something was wrong when he wasn’t outside waiting for me.

Stupid Nevaeh.

“He really has no idea what to do with a woman when he has one, does he? Fucking idiot. Let me guess. He thought I’d go after Lola first, right? After all, she’s my old lady, carrying my baby and all that shit.” He laughs, and it makes the hairs on my arms stand on end.

“She doesn’t matter. She never did. I took her because I could, but Havoc did more damage to her than I ever did. He was supposed to love her, yet he never questioned her actions. All that time together, and he just accepted that she jumped from him to me.” He shakes his head as my blood runs cold. “So insecure she changed her whole world to fit his, and then he was gone, leaving her all alone.”

“What did you do?” I whisper, not wanting to know but at the same time needing the truth.

“I didn’t give her a choice. I beat that bastard’s baby right out of her before replacing it with mine. If it’s anything like me, it will rip her apart during labor.” He laughs gleefully.

My eyes slip closed, and I cry for a woman I disliked on principle only weeks ago.

“Now I’m going to ruin you and leave you for my brother to find. I do so like breaking his toys. Be interesting if he’ll want you once I’ve been inside you. History says he’ll walk away after all.”

His free hand slips under the hem of my shirt and I thank God I wore pants instead of a skirt today. I try to wiggle away, but the hand with the knife presses a little harder against myskin. I reach up instinctively and wrap my hand around his fist, trying to stop him, but his strength is no match for mine.

“I’m gonna enjoy making you scream my name.”

His fingers reach for the button of my pants just as a figure steps up behind him. I feel my eyes widen as I stare into my father’s horrified eyes moments before he brings a rock down on the back of Driller’s head.

Driller collapses over me, his hand going slack over the knife. I cry out when it nicks my skin. I slip the knife from his hand into mine as I try to wiggle out from under him. He groans above me as my father rolls him off me.

“Run!” my father yells.

I grip the knife, realizing belatedly it’s one of those switchblade things, and get to my knees.

“Get up, Nevaeh. Get in the car and get out of here now!” He yanks me to my feet, then lets me go when there is a scuffle behind me.

My head is swimming, and I know I’m more of a liability here than a help. I flip the blade closed, shove it in my pocket, and run to my car, knowing my phone is in my bag. The door is still open, and my bag is sitting on the passenger seat. I jump in and slam the door, flipping the lock into place before reaching for the bag with shaking hands.

I freeze when I remember dropping the bag in the parking lot, scattering the contents on the ground. Before I can do anything, a rope is around my neck, pulling me back against the car seat.

There’s movement behind me as I tear at the rope with my fingers, ripping my nails in a blind panic. A click sounds, making me freeze. I’ve been around guns enough to know what a safety being removed sounds like. The rope loosens a fraction, just enough for me to drag in some air, but the press of the gun to my temple guarantees compliance.

“Back in my day, everyone knew to check the back seat. That’s what’s wrong with this generation.”

Says the man with a fucking gun.

“Put your hands on the wheel and drive. I’ll tell you where to go. If you try anything funny, I’ll blow your brains all over the dashboard.”

“Okay,” I whisper, knowing nodding my head might not be such a wise move.

He’s already put the keys in the ignition, so I start the car and move toward the exit. My father looks toward us, the rock still in his hand. His eyes flash with relief when he sees me, but they quickly shift to horror when he sees whoever is in the backseat. He starts running toward me, yelling my name.

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