Page 164 of Cara
My eyes lock onto Dominic’s, my feet faltering until I'm molding into Xavier’s chest.No.
Dominic steps aside, allowing a rally of armed men to pass through the opening before following behind. His grin burns a hole in my mind as darkness envelops the room again, trapping us in a void filled with enemies. I sense a rush of wind just before bodies collide beside me, Xavier slamming against the wall. I’m stabbing without a clear idea of who it might be. Xavier’s skin is exposed; that’s how I distinguish him from the others. I feel my way to one of the abandoned rooms, wasting a bullet on the lock before kicking the door open.
I can’t tell Xavier’s groans apart from theirs anymore.
I sprint across the cold room and slam the butt of my gun against the tinted glass, blinded by the light. Before I’m able to turn, a hand snatches the back of my neck, yankingme off my feet. “Never turn your back on the door, Cara. Have you forgotten everything I taught you?”
My stomach drops like a stone, but I manage to spit out a defiant “Fuckyou.”
Right now, Dominic looks like the men in my nightmares, unable to contain the menacing hunger in his eyes. He crushes my wrist in his grip, the cold metal of the gun aimed threateningly at the ground. “You came back.”
“Not for you.”
“Keep your end of the bargain.”
“Let us go,” I hiss, “and I won’t fuckingkillyou.”
Dominic shoves me aside so forcefully that the gun rips from my grasp. A soldier entering the room falls flat on his face, losing his footing. In that chilling instant, I see Xavier viciously dragging him by the ankles, hauling him back into the dark hallway. The sheer brutality of it, compounded by the bone-chilling screams reverberating through the rooms, shatters Dominic’s façade of ease.
Without warning, like my husband, I spring into action, launching myself at Dominic with both fury and precision, targeting the vulnerable backs of his knees to send him tumbling. His hands grip my thighs, pinning me down as he forces me to the ground, attempting to dislodge me. He does it over and over, growling each time my nails dig into his throat, squeezing with all of my strength. On his knees, he grabs my wrist and hurls me onto the concrete with an exasperated roar. My spine protests, a jolt of pain surging through my back as breath fills my lungs again.
“I didn’t come here to hurt you! Stop, Sophia!” Dominic shouts.
He’s disoriented and desperate as he grapples to pierce through my resistance, my arms lashing out erratically. I seize whatever I can find to inflict pain—knives, crumbling stones from the walls. My nails claw at the ground and scrape alongthe door as he yanks me toward the exit, his urgency palpable while Xavier remains occupied.
“Listen to me. Sophia, listen to me!”
But my blade slices across his thigh, forcing him to a knee, and that calm demeanor, that convincing mask fractures, unveiling the darkness he has concealed so well.
Unlike Iceland, when his arm hesitated to strike after I had bested him, turned his emotions against him, now a feral rage consumes Dominic. He rushes at me, fury burning in his eyes, forcing me to retreat into the room, paralyzed by fear, unable to scream.
He wails upon me.
I can’t get away from it.
Strata sends me crashing back to the unforgiving concrete every time I struggle to my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Xavier on his back, grappling with multiple soldiers. My heart races as I close my eyes, bracing for each punishing blow, feeling my own fight slipping away with every strike. When he knows I can’t get up, couldn’t even if I tried, Dominic crawls over me, seizing my wrists and pinning them beside my head.
“Goddamnit, Sophia! You are coming with me. I’ve sacrificed too damn much!”
Before I can even register the presence of another soul in this room, a massive hand tightens around Dominic Strata’s throat, yanking him away from me in a swift, violent motion.
My senses dull in the struggle it takes to remain conscious, distorting the indescribable violence happening around me. Bodies clashing, echoing wild, primal sounds throughout the room. There are more of them. They’re pulling at Xavier’s back, his arms, his legs, trying to keep him from disfiguring Strata beyond repair.
There are too many.
Get up. Getup, Sophie.
Sheer will propels me to my feet to grab a weapon. I can’t explain how I manage to reach them, prying their arms off of my husband. But Dominic has gotten his hands on discarded debris and wails it down on Xavier. It does the job. It makes him lose his grip, falling into the hands of the enraged soldiers.
Strata is consuming my airspace within seconds.
I’m fighting with all of my might to breathe, pounding my hands against his wrists, my legs thrashing as he drags me out of the room, past the group of men forcing Xavier down to his knees, until rain is pelting my face.
There’s no one left out here. It dawns on me what Xavier and I have done—depleted their forces to nearly nothing. Still, it’s not enough. I’m ripping his shirt, digging my boots into the wet earth to remain upright, to keep myself from that car waiting at the curb.
Fighting blind panic, my fingers dig into Dominic’s eye sockets, drawing blood, making him unable to stabilize after the blow. Seeing that car ignites what was dying within me, reminding me of the horrors I’ve endured due to men who think they can own me. That’s all it takes.
I’m harnessing the strength I thought I had lost.
