Page 29 of Stealing Mercury
She didn’t understand at first. Then she saw Resler over Drake’s shoulder. He’d been watching them, waiting. As Drake turned his back on her and walked away, Resler stalked steadily toward her, intent clear in his eyes.
“Until then,” Drake tossed over his shoulder. “I’ll be inventorying the supplies. You and Resler can finish collecting the wood for the fire.”
Samantha didn’t see any sign of interest in wood gathering in Resler’s hate-filled face. Back on the ship, while she’d been prepping the escape-pod, he’d ranted and shouted, blaming her forsetting-him-upto crash the ship.
“Don’t forget,” said Drake. “All you have to do is ask.”
Right. That was going to happen.
She kept her gaze fixed on Resler. His gaze fixed firmly on her breasts as he tugged his top free of his pants.
Without a weapon, she’d have to let him get close if she intended to fight him. She might be able to stand her ground. He was an idiot, more brawn than brain, and still recovering from a leg injury. Maybe she could talk him out of the intent in that wild look, shame him into re-thinking his course of action. Maybe she could even out-fight him, but he came from a world that was all about combat. Did she want to take a chance?
Samantha ran.
Not toward Drake and the help with a price he’d implied. Toward the trees.
She kicked her legs and sucked in air. Resler’s laugh rang out behind her.
She went for a crowded clump of trees where she might be able to out-maneuver him. She could hear him gaining ground behind her. As she broke through the tree line, vines snagged at her ankles and arms. Leaves slapped her face. She ducked her head, trying to keep one eye on the root covered ground and the other looking for a way through.
Behind her, the thwap of brambles slapping against a stampeding body swelled. Saplings snapped, vines scraped along the leaf strewn ground. Resler had made it to the brush. She darted around a tree and sprinted in a new direction. Her lungs ached as she fought for the oxygen her surging muscles required to keep going.
Resler breathed just as heavily behind her. “Fucking. Bitch.”
Too close. His voice had come from right behind her. Run. Run. She had to run faster.
Her head snapped back, the hand suddenly jerking her hair seemed to be trying to rip it out by the roots. Momentum carried her forward, pulling Resler with her. Her knees hit the ground as she came to an abrupt stop.
“Got you!”
The tug at her scalp loosened and she crashed forward. She managed to thrust her arms out to protect her face as she hit the ground. Then Resler landed on her, knocking the breath from her lungs.
She scrambled to get away but couldn’t break free. She swung back and her elbow connected with his jaw. He cursed and cuffed her on the back of the head. Her vision blurred and tears filled her eyes in an unstoppable flood.
She tried to make her body move, to crawl, to fight, but her muscles had stopped responding to her commands. Taking advantage of her momentary inability to move, he flipped her over and crushed her into the ground. “Fight if you want,” he said. “That only makes it better.”
Her throat tightened and bitter acid seeped into the back of her mouth. His arm pressed against her windpipe was making it even harder to breathe. He grabbed at her breast, squeezing painfully with his free hand, then tugged at her top. Fabric ripped. The weight of his arm lifted off her neck and she gasped, desperate for air.
“Well damn. What’s this?”
He spread her shirt wide and pressed a palm to her belly. She knew it would be an angry scarlet-gold. Too bright for any normal human flush of color. He tugged at one of her sleeves. The seam gave way at the shoulder, bearing the bands of color that stood out in vivid contrast.
“Fucking mutt.” He spat at her then pressed his arm back in place and grabbed for the waistband of her pants with his other hand. Apparently, her mixed blood wasn’t enough to change his plans.
She willed her muscle control to return, to let her fight. Her heart beat like a trapped hoverbird. The arm at her throat shifted enough to allow one deep breath. The darkness in her vision bled away and everything came back to sharp focus. She squeezed her hand into a fist, grateful when the command made its way successfully from her brain to her muscles.
Samantha put every scrap of strength she could muster into a swing. He dodged her fist, but the movement gave her a small opening. She twisted under him and tried to drag, pull, kick her way forward.
His hand caught in her shirt. The ripped fabric pulled tight as he dragged her backward. His weight pressed across her hips and crushed her into the ground. A root dug into her belly. Damp leaves clung to her cheek.
“You’re done... you little... bitch.” Resler’s labored breaths puffed against her temple. His heavy breathing drowned out any sound beyond their two bodies. Each shift of his weight, as he struggled to keep her pinned, as he groped her, created a new ache or jab of pain.
Samantha sucked in what little breath her crushed lungs could hold. The loamy smell of rotting vegetation filled her nose. Broken twigs pricked her palms as her fingertips dug into the moist soil beneath the rot.
She couldn’t move and there was nothing more she could do to fight. She promised herself she wouldn’t beg.
Chapter Nine
