Page 173 of Devil Mine

I hope he feels them go hurtling back up into his stomach, because that’s what I was going for.

The miscalculation I make is that the shock makes him fold, then drop onto the bed.

Right on top of me, trapping me beneath him.

His dead weight as he fights for breath almost suffocates me. I scream, the bloodcurdling sound ripping from my throat as I fight for my life. His hands come around my neck and he starts to squeeze.

Think,Tess. Think.

My vision blurs, spots dotting my eyes.

Softest parts.

I try to reach for his eyes, but he tilts his head up and keeps them out of reach. His vicious smile as he chokes the life out of me sends fresh fury through my veins.

This asshole doesn’tgetto win.

I reach for his hair and grip it in both fists. Then I use it to yank him towards me. He shrieks in pain, probably not used to anyone pulling his hair, and his hands momentarily relax around my throat.

Closing the distance between us, I lift my head and bite his already broken nose with the savagery only someone who’s doing anything to live possesses.

I spit a piece of his flesh at him. I bit off part of his nose.

“Rapist piece of shit,” I sneer, taking advantage of his now half-seated position to push him off me.

Something knocks into my hip as he falls onto the bed next to me, clutching his destroyed face.

A gun.

I reach for it with shaky hands, in disbelief that he would have a gun on him and within reach when he tried to assault me.

He underestimated me.

My fingers close around it and I pull it out of the band of his trousers. I’m on my feet and I’ve taken a step towards the door, towards freedom, when I hear a furious roar from behind me. I turn in time to find him lunging at me.

I could shoot him, but I’ve never fired a gun before.

That split second of hesitation costs me dearly.

Marco tackles me to the ground.

The breath expels violently from my lungs when my back hits the floor and his weight comes down on top of me once more.

“Stupidbitch,” he yells, slapping me.

Blood from his nose drips onto my face.

I’m close.

I’msoclose to making it out.

That belief that I can save myself from this, that I can hopefully go save Thiago after I’m free, powers a new wave of adrenaline into my veins.

The gun is in my hand, at my side. My finger curls around the trigger and squeezes. The gunshot echoes loudly, startling Marco. The bullet fires into the wall, nowhere near him.

But now he’s distracted.

I lift the gun and slam it down into his temple.

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