Page 29 of Red Retaliation
He grabs my face with both hands; his thick fingers squeezing my jaw as he pulls me forwards against him like a rag doll.
“You could have been killed, you stupid bitch!” he screams, his face so close I can see each individual fleck in his wild eyes.
His raw power infuriates me, yet heats me in ways I don’t understand. “I’d have thought me getting shot dead would be high on your priority list!” I snap, unable to help it. “That would make you happy, no doubt? You should have let it happen because I’ve been dead inside for a long time.”
Red’s eyes narrow, a look of madness behind his fiery glare that frightens me. “You selfish cow! You should be grateful you’re not dead, so I’ll remind you that you’re very much alive, shall I?”
His mouth crashes onto mine. It’s a closed kiss - a shock factor to prove his point, but there’s an intensity that only hints at what it would be like for him to kiss me properly, and my heat increases. Then, as fast as his mouth slammed onto mine, he pulls away, his eyes blazing with venom.
“How dare you!” I gasp.
“See?” Red sneers, his face a mask of contempt. “You’re very much alive, so never talk shit to me ever again!”
Dropping his grip, he strides to a cabinet on the other side of his office, leaving me rubbing my sore shoulders, shocked into silence.
My hand moves to my throbbing lips where his just were, and an ache tingles between my legs. In my state of confusion, I watch him unlock the cabinet, his whole frame tense.
The gunshot to his shoulder is still bleeding and needs tending, but the wound isn’t registering through his rage. I’ll be damned if I’ll offer to deal with it - not after what he’s just said and done! His hatred and blame for the night’s events lay clearly at my door, yet I’m still thinking about his mouth? What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
I’m also struggling to comprehend why I freaked out when I thought he might be dead. Being as he hates me so, why shield me from that gunfire?
Why kiss me - even to make a point?
Of course I’m alive! What I said was a term of phrase, and I don’t need the likes of him outlininganythingfor me.
I shudder, the sudden thought about whether the gunfire was meant for me taking precedence. If it was, then why not let me die? Isn’t that what the Batemans want?
Needing to bring a sliver of normality into this fucked up situation, if there can be one in this madness, I speak, surprised I can form words. “Why have you locked this office? Am I to be kept prisoner inherenow?”
“The last time I noticed, you were about to make a run for it,” Red shouts from half inside the cupboard, acting like he hasn’t just crushed his lips onto mine, similar to an animal staking its claim.
But an animal is exactly what Redmond Bateman is, so why, despite despising him and everything he represents, do I find him such a magnetic turn-on?
He’s just taken liberties, yet acts like his behavior is normal?
My eyes narrow, but the next remark I’m about to throw trails off. There’s one thing I’ve somehow failed to include in my analysis of this crazy and extremely hot man: Red has just lost one of his men under orders to eject his brother from the building because of what was done tome. The man they call Steve is dead - picked off in cold blood by a blatant hit, yet all I’m doing is griping? I’m being snotty about stuff that, in the big scheme of things, pales into insignificance.
I begin to shake, the severity of the situation hitting home. What was it someone said the gunman shouted?“You have one of my family, and now we take one of yours?”I stagger back against the wall.
That “family” they referred to? Was it me or Roberto?
My family wouldn’t be behind something so callous, would they?
No, my father is a fair man, and even worried sick about my whereabouts, he wouldn’t orchestrate this. I know he wouldn’t.
Red steps from the cabinet, eyeing me coolly. He has several automatic weapons in his hands, and my fear surges. “What are those for?” My voice is squeaky. I wish it wasn’t, but I’m too freaked out to care.
“What the fuck do you think they’re for?” Red shoves the weapons into a large holdall, along with boxes of ammunition. “They’re not getting away with this.”
He paces the room, his face twisting in a rage difficult to decipher. I inch towards him, unsure whether his fury is for me and what I’ve brought to his table, what just happened or for whoever is responsible for slaying his man.
All indignation about being dragged around like a doll, forcibly kissed and then roared at, vanishes as the knowledge of what he’s planning hits me square between the eyes. Throwing caution to the wind, I grab Red’s arm. “Please don’t retaliate!Please!” I beg. “You’ll make things worse if you go for the Bristonis.”
Red eyes are icy as he shakes me off like I’m a gnat. “Make things worse?” he laughs coldly. “A loyal man is dead! And what makes you think I’m just going after the Bristonis? I’m going forbothfucking families, and that meansyourstoo. One of them is behind this, so I’ll take both.”
I suck in air with such force it almost chokes me. “No! Not my Papà! He wouldn’t do this! He wouldn’t!” I resent pleading with this man, but I have no choice.
Red regards me with a strange kind of pity. “You’re sure about that?”
