Page 29 of Monster: King of Nevada

“Ah fuck, I like it dry. This could become addicting, babe.”

I swallow back the vomit rising in my throat.

He’s raping me!

Over and over, all night long, he does it. Vegetables left on the counter to dry up as I’m tied to the bed and forced to take him into my body.

Forced to swallow back my cries when he chokes me.

Forced to keep my legs spread wide as he assaults me and takes his pleasure while tying a piece of cloth around my head to stifle my pleas for him to stop.

By the time he releases me the next morning before going to work, I’m bloody, bruised, and forever a different woman. For over another year, he does the same. Threatening to kill me and my family if I ever leave.

Fear holds me hostage and at his mercy for more days than I can count. I’m trapped with no way out. Realizing death will be my end, I’ll keep looking for an exit strategy.

18

THEIAS

“Tank.”

Staring at the beast of a man who used to have my respect and support, I’m a little surprised at how much damage Hanger inflicted. A broken wrist and slashes across his chest that’ll require stitches. There’s a cut above one eye, and the other is black and blue–matching the one I gave him a few days ago.

“Fuck you.” He spits on the ground at my feet.

“I told you not to show your face again.” I shake my head at his snarl, which only opens the wound on his lip, causing it to bleed again. “You want a fight, Tank? With a real opponent?” He rolls his eyes at me. “Me and you, next fight night.” I extend my hand, and he eyes me warily, waiting for the punch line.

“For real?” He stands to his full height, still not big enough to intimidate me.

“As real as the cast you’ll be wearing.”

“Fine.” He takes my hand, squeezing, trying to dominate me, but it doesn’t work. I squeeze harder until he winces and nearly drops to his knees.

Leaning down, I whisper in his ear, “To the death.” His eyes widen briefly before a cocky smirk crosses his features, and he nods. Releasing him, I tell Caleb, “Tell the cops it was a misunderstanding among friends and get him treated.”

Walking away, I roll my head on my neck from shoulder to shoulder, already preparing for a fight that Tank won’t win. His time in this life is finished.

I don’t permit death matches very often; the fallout isn’t usually worth it, but this time, I have no trouble with it. One way or another, Tank was bound to die.

As I enter one of the dressing rooms in the back, my phone rings in my pocket. Pulling it out, Lucas’ name flashes on the screen.

“What?” I bark.

“Well, Oliver is here.” He sounds hesitant.

“And?”

“Ella had a panic attack, passed out, and hit her head. She’s fine…now.” He hesitates, and I growl. “You should probably come home because she’s fighting us to leave, to run away after Owen had an encounter with her ex in L.A.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, knowing they won’t let her leave. I also know that if Lucas says she’s fine, then she’s fine. A plan forms, and a sick smile spreads across my lips.

“Send the bastard an invitation to the next fight. Front row seats. VIP package. Make it lucrative, Lucas. I want him to see everything.”

“Uh, you sure about that, boss?” I can picture the confusion on his face.

“Positive. He’s going to get a front-row seat to his future.”

Hanging up with Lucas, I quickly call Dr. Edwards and request a house call. After the promise of a hefty donation, she’s on her way to see Ella while I finish wrapping things up here with the police and lie through my teeth about Tank andHanger’s fight. After another promised donation to the police officers’ family crisis fund, I’m on my way home.

---