Page 1 of Fire

PROLOGUE

GRACE

“You stupid bitch!” Benny growls as I fall down from his punch.

My cheek throbs, but I fight the urge to touch it. Instead, I spend all my effort trying to protect my stomach. I’m eight weeks pregnant. Benny doesn’t know and I’ll never tell him. I see his leg coming at me. I quickly turn. It still catches me in the ribs. At least he didn’t reach my belly. Benny loves to hit where he can inflict the most pain. I cry out when his Italian loafers that cost more than my entire wardrobe connect in the same spot. It feels like he cracked one of my ribs.

“Please,” I beg. He grabs me by my hair before I can continue to plead. He yanks hard, controlling me. I claw at his hand, but it doesn’t help. Benny slaps me hard across my face. The force of the hit causes my head to jerk back as I careen into the wall. For a second, my vision dims.

“I told you to be nice to Korslova, you stupid bitch!”

“I-I-I couldn’t,” I cry. My face is swelling already, or maybe his punch caused damage because I can barely see out of my left eye. My tears, which are continually falling, don’t help. I hate that I’m crying. I can’t help it, though. I’m terrified. “He wantedme to-to—” I can’t finish the sentence. Remembering what he tried to do to me makes me want to hurl.

Despite the terror of my current situation, I think back to just a few moments ago. I walked into Benny’s office, bringing him and Mr. Korslova drinks like requested. History had taught me to placate him as much as I could. If I failed, my punishment would be painful. I know I’m weak. I should’ve left Benny the first time he slapped me. The thing is, once you’re involved with the Korslova family—even a minor player like Benny—you’re stuck.

If I’d been smart, I’d have never married him. In fairness, in the beginning, the bastard gave me visions of a better life, with a picket fence and happy children running around my feet. It was a dream that I’ve always quietly held inside my heart. Benny used that to his advantage. He swore I’d never want for anything. I was gullible as hell.

I continue thinking of what got me here, pinned against the wall, Benny’s hand chokingly tight on my neck. His cold blue eyes that I once thought were beautiful, stare at me with a twisted pleasure, making bile rise into my throat.

Once I took their drinks into his office, I immediately knew from the way his friend was leering at me I was in trouble. Benny introduced the guy as Kerr Korslova. The smile the man gave me terrified me. Benny’s sadistic laugh as he plopped down in a chair made me feel worse. When Benny is relaxed, nothing good comes from it.

Korslova walked to me. I kept my fake smile on my face, thinking he was going to take the drinks from my hands. He did, putting them on Benny’s desk. I turned to leave, my heart running wild. Korslova grabbed me, pushed me up against the wall, ripping the straps of my pale-yellow sundress. I cried in horror as the fabric fell down, revealing my bra. I immediatelytried to cover myself, but the man ignored me. He flicked the clasp on my bra, baring my breasts.

“Benny! Help!” I cried, begging.

My so-called husband laughed. “Help? I’m going to enjoy the view. You be a good little slut now and pleasure him the way I’ve taught you. If you’re really good, I’ll even join in for round two,” he laughs.

“Stop,” I implore. “This is rape.”

“C’mon. We know you want this,” Korslova taunts, as he pushes my hands out of the way, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth.

He sucks it into his mouth, while I do my best to twist and turn to get away from him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Benny rubbing his hand against the erection pushing against his pants.I hate him.I wish I had the strength to kill him.

Korslova begins sucking harder on my nipple, his hand moving over my body. Rage and disgust fill me. I can’t let them rape me. I won’t survive it—I know I won’t.“Stop!” I scream at the top of my lungs. In retaliation, he bites into my nipple. White-hot pain moves through me. In desperation, I take my hand, angling my fingers to dig my nails into the side of his face. I’m too panicked to enjoy the fact that I’m drawing blood—although I feel it against my fingertips.

“You fucking cunt!” Korslova screams, his hand going to the side of his jaw. He slams my head backward into the wall so hard that I see stars. I whimper as the pain takes over. I try to shake off the dizziness that overwhelms me, but my legs give out and I crash to the floor.

I must black out, because when I come to, Benny is using me as a punching bag and there is no sign of Korslova. I know he’s going to kill me. All I can feel is bitterness. I can’t win, though. I decide to give up. I’ve been fighting my whole life and I’m tired. I know it’s weak, but my exhaustion runs soul deep. I’m not surehow long I lay on the cold, hard, tiled floor. I can’t even tell you how many hits I’ve taken. Eventually, I pass out once more.

When I wake up this time, I’m alone. There’s not a part of my body that doesn’t hurt. The swelling on my face is so severe that my left eye is completely shut. The right isn’t much better. I have barely a slit to see out of—making it difficult to see. There’s sunshine flooding through the windows. If it’s the next day or a week later, I don’t know. My muscles scream in protest when I try to move. I know there’s no way I can stand. I lay flat on my back, whimpering as I lift my hand to reach the leg of the sofa, pulling my body around. Tears sting my eyes and pain rolls through me like a tidal wave. I fight the dark shadows that surround my vision. I can’t lose consciousness again. I need to get out of here.

I’m having trouble breathing. I have some cracked or broken ribs. My right arm is awkwardly turned, and I can’t move it. It seems to take me forever to get to Benny’s desk and my breathing is increasingly painful and ragged by the time I do. Lying on the floor, I gaze up, knowing there’s a phone up there. I’m going to have to sit up. Just the thought of the pain that I will have to endure makes my heart somersault. I don’t know how long Benny will be gone. He may still be in the house. I need to get help. I can’t stay here. He has beaten me before, but never like this. That’s not what terrifies me, though. No, that would be the fact he’s planning to whore me out to the Bratva.

I have to get away.

One problem with that is Benny and the Korslova family have connections with the cops. I must be careful. There’s only one name I trust in the local police department. He’s become a friend. He’s a regular at the diner and has been there when I come into work after Benny has punished me for whatever he thinks I’ve done.Cruz Garcia.

Of course, I first have to somehow manage to get the phone. That’s a feat which is easier said than done. Biting down on my lip to stifle my scream, I somehow turn my body so that I’m now lying on my side. I look around the room, wincing as I see the tracks of blood where I’ve dragged myself across the room. I desperately look around for anything that might help. I spot an umbrella leaning on the bookcases across from the desk.

I take a breath, immediately regretting it as I start coughing. Each cough is painful and some blood slides from the corner of my mouth.That can’t be good. I send up a prayer to a God that I figure long ago has forgotten me. I am hoping He will at least love my child enough to help me do what I need to do to get away.I just want to escape and give my baby a chance to live and be happy.That will be my purpose now and is the only thing that pushes me to ignore my pain. Using Benny’s desk, I begin the pain-filled task of sliding across the floor toward the bookcases.

Suppressing the scream that threatens to escape, I bite down on my lip while stretching my arm in an attempt to grasp hold of any part of the umbrella. I’m sure it's broken. I can’t move it correctly and unfortunately, that’s the hand closest to the bookcase. I finally move to angle my body and kick at the umbrella. I am glad it is a larger one, because when it falls, the handle hits against my stomach. Using the same hand that I have been pulling myself with, to grab the handle, swatting it to trying to knock the cordless phone off. I don’t have a lot of energy, and it takes forever. Eventually, it falls, knocking me in the head. It hurts, but I can’t be bothered. I grab it from the floor. Clutching it and stretching my thumb out to call is difficult. I manage, but it sure as hell isn’t easy. I’m thankful that I memorized Garcia’s number. By the fourth ring, hope is slowly fading away.

“Hello?” Cruz finally answers.

“Thank God,” I whisper hoarsely through my tears.

“Who is this?”

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