Page 82 of Vicious Addictions

“I’m sorry. What did you just say? I couldn’t hear you over your loud ego,” I mock, goading him further, gaining another sucker punch to the gut as payback for my sass.

“Insolent child.” He stands back up, forcing me to crane my neck back to keep my eye on him. “I have half a mind to kill you right now.”

My smile is slow and lazy as I stare at him.

“What are you waiting for then? Oh, that’s right. You can’t kill me. Not if you want to win brownie points with Misha. That’s the goal, right? Hand-deliver me to yourPakhanin the hopes that it’s enough to save your life after the shame and embarrassment you brought down on his house?”

“It was because of you!” He slaps me again, rattling my teeth with the sheer force of it, splitting my bottom lip with his rings. “Don’t think I didn’t piece it together that you and your American friend must have found my ledger somehow when you were pretending to be canoodling in my office. Yes, it took longer than I would have liked to figure out who you were, but the minute I did, I promised myself that I would taint your beautiful petals with the crimson of your blood.”

My smile never wavers as I stare him down.

“You talk a good game, but I doubt you’ll be able to keep that promise.”

“Is that so?” He cackles softly while running his finger on my bruised lip. “Do you think you can entice me to do otherwise,?b?tok?”

“Entice you?” I pretend to hurl. “God, no. I’d rather die a virgin than let your filthy hands touch me.” When his dead eyes light up, I realize I’ve said the wrong fucking thing.

“The American didn’t claim you as he insinuated.” His ugly smile broadens. “How disastrous for you and how fortunate for me. Yes, thePakhanwants you alive, but he never said he needs you whole.”

Up until now, I was holding my end quite well, all things considered, but as Pavlin’s hands go to unfasten his belt and zipper, crippling fear begins to set in my bones.

How is it that men like him know that breaking a woman’s will to live can be as simple as stealing her dignity away? Stealing her very virtue and honor?

“I swear to God, if you put that tiny pencil dick anywhere close to me, I’ll bite it off!” I shout, jerking maniacally in the chair, overcoming the pain of the cables cutting my bloodstream.

Pavlin grips my chin, his nails sinking into my skin, and responds, “If I so much as feel your teeth on my cock, I’ll make sure to kick them out of your mouth.”

I spit in his face, to which he repays me by slapping my cheeks twice on each side before landing another gut punch to my stomach. My mind spins with dizziness as another slap echoes in my ears, making it difficult to regain focus.

Pavlin seems intent on slapping and punching me until I black out again to make it easier for him to rape me. But I refuse to go down without a fight, clinging to my consciousness with all my might. Tears start streaming down my face when the dark abyss starts creeping back at the corner of my eyes, threatening to swallow me up again.

Pavlin is halted from striking me again by the sound of a gunshot, giving me a reason not to succumb to my injuries. Then another gunshot rings out, followed by another, and another after that, until pure chaos erupts in the distance.

The first spark of hope ignites within me with the sound of bullets ricocheting off rusted vats, footsteps pounding against concrete, and the sharp stench of gunpowder thick in the air. When I hear Rolo’s laugh, wild and unrestrained, cutting through the carnage like a blade over the deafening sound of gunfire, I start weeping in joy. A rush of relief surges through me despite the cables still binding me to the chair.

If Rolo’s here, then Remus can’t be far behind.

My cousins will find me.

My cousins will save me.

And when they do, Pavlin is as good as dead.

However, I’ll ensure to order the twins that I’ll be the one to send the prick off to meet his maker.

But just as the wonderful thought crosses my mind, both Pavlin and I hear the sound of a nearby door creaking open, our breaths catching in our throats in unison.

My body tenses as the shadowy figure slowly approaches, silent and ominous, leaving us to wonder who’s coming. Pavlin stiffens beside me, his attention snapping toward the approaching figure, watching it move purposely closer to the light.

“Stay back,” Pavlin snarls, his voice tight with fear.

But when there’s no reply, and all he hears is the distant screams of his men being slaughtered and gunned down, Pavlin lets his panic take hold.

He moves fast. One minute, he’s at my side, and the next, he’s standing behind me, pressing the cold steel of his gun against the back of my skull.

“Stay back, I said!” he barks out again, his hand unsteady due to the symphony of shrill cries sung by his crew in the distance.

Then, out of the shadows and taking one full step under the light, he appears—Jude.

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