Page 42 of Hunted Vengeance

“You don’t have to be here or put your name on it,” I say. “You’ve already been paid and fucked.”

I almost cover my mouth in surprise that I’ve said what I did out loud. Honestly, I can’t believe I just blurted out those words, but then again, why the hell not? Because for the first time in my life, it feels good to just get it out, and I won’t be able to again, probably ever.

It’s not like I’d ever be able to smart-mouth Malcolm. He’d slap me into next week, I’m sure. Biting the corner of my bottom lip, I lift my chin and look down my nose at my reflection. I hate myself right now.

The way I look from head to toe is so fake, except for the bruising around my neck.Thatis the only real part of me right now. Marina snorts, then leans forward, her lips beside my ear before she whispers.

I know that this is only an attempt to intimidate me. It doesn’t work. This woman couldn’t intimidate me if she tried. The fact that she thinks she has some kind of hold over my father because she spreads her legs for him is pretty hilarious.

“This is the last day I have to worry about you,” she hisses. “I can’t wait until you go to Malcolm, where you’ll be fucked by anyone and everyone who pays him. I hope he sells tickets to watch. I’ll be the first in line.”

I’m not sure how her words make me feel. I know they’re supposed to scare me. She’s saying everything I am dreading about this new life of mine. She doesn’t realize that while I’m scared to death of what is awaiting me as Malcolm’s wife, I’m more concerned with the talk of luring boys.

I cannot stop thinking about it and what he wants with them. What kind of luring is he talking about, and what awaits these boys? Biting the inside of my cheek, I keep my spine straight and my body loose.

I refuse to show any emotion in front of this bitch.

Marina believes that she’s somehow delivered a blow and takes a step backward. Her eyes hold mine in the reflection of the full-length mirror. Then her lips curve up into a snarky smirk. I give her nothing, mainly because I think nothing of her.

Whatever she knows isn’t going to matter in a few weeks when my father gets tired of her. She’ll be dead. Women don’t last long in his presence when he’s done using them for whatever it is he wants. I don’t tell her any of that. Instead, I just watch as she walks out the door, finally leaving me alone.

Turning my back to the mirror, I close my eyes as I take a moment to just breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Then I feel warm air wash against my cheek. Letting out a heavy sigh, I turn my head toward that warmth and exhale a long breath. Warm lips touch mine. It’s easy to imagine them to be Merrick’s, but that’s impossible. I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to wake up from this nightmare.

But I have to. Because reality is going to slap me in the face in just a few minutes. When my eyes open, so does my mouth, and I start to make a noise, but he presses his palm against my lips.

“Shhh,” he rasps.

I nod, my eyes widen, and I try not to scream with excitement. I want to scream and tell the whole world that he’s here to save me. But instead of pulling me against his body, he takes a step backward, his hand falling from my mouth.

I watch as he turns around and walks toward the door. I hold my breath, watching as he walks away from me. I want to run after him, but I don’t think I could in this dress and heels, even if I wanted to. So instead, I watch him, waiting for him to leave me—again.

He doesn’t open the door, though. Instead, he flips the lock in place, locking us in this room. Turning around, he faces me. I watch as his eyes darken. Sucking in a breath, I hold it as he moves toward me.

One step after another until he’s so close that he can touch me. I press my lips together, closing my eyes slowly before I reopen them. He reaches out and wraps his arms around me, his fingers gripping the back of my loose dress. He tugs on the fabric, pulling it tight around my body, and drags me closer to him.

“You’re here,” I breathe against his mouth.

“And you’re mine.”

Before I can deny his words and tell him that I’m not, he shoves his tongue into my mouth and tastes me. Fully. Completely.

He tastes me like I’m his.

And I am.

His.

Fully.

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