Page 38 of Wine & Whiskey: Everything for You
“But, Enrique is your father?”
“Yes. Juan is…was…kind of like my uncle, my mother’s brother-in-law. But we haven’t seen each other in years. Juan went off the deep end. He had a stupid vendetta against Nick that my dad disagreed with. He and Nick were partners.”
Were. Already using past tense, as if it’s true. She can’t think about that right now and blinks back tears. “I hope your dad is okay.”
“Me too.”
Forcing a smile for her new friend, she runs her hand across the smooth fabric of the pillow case. “Now that we’ve been naked together, I guess I should know your name.”
The woman’s eyes light up as she laughs, giving a hint of her true personality. “It’s Evangeline, but people I like call me Gina.”
“Evangeline! Get out here!” They both flinch at Spencer’s scream behind the closed door.
“See?” She rolls her eyes before climbing off the bed. “I’ll be back.”
A few minutes later, Shae opens her eyes to the door creaking. Goosebumps prickle her arms. Spencer smiles at her and nods toward the tray. “See what I remembered? I made sure it was sparkling water, and I had her give you some orange slices too.”
Disgust rolls through her that he knows what she likes, that he knows anything about her. “Leave me alone.”
“Don’t be like that. I’m the one who should be mad at you. All I needed was one more day, and Nick would have been dead. But no, you had to come racing back from New York and ruin everything.” He scoots closer to her on the bed and lays his hand on her thigh, his fingertips brushing the edge of the black, cotton shorts Rosita shared with her. “But it doesn’t matter now. The explosion took care of him, and now, I’m going to take care of you.”
She turns away, refusing to let him see her cry. Not allow him to think he can control her by making her fall apart at the mention of Nick’s name. Trying to keep her composure, she grabs the bottle from the nightstand and takes a long swallow.
“Good girl. Drink it all up.”
A chill runs up her neck at the realization for his encouragement. His concern isn’t for her hydration. “You’re drugging me?”
The smirk returns as he puts his hands up. “Your turn.”
Adrenaline pulses through her body, giving her a small burst of strength to try to escape. She shoves off the bed, but her legs buckle, and she drops to her knees. The carpet scratches her skin as she crawls toward the door.
His arms wrap around her waist, his sweaty hands gliding under her shirt and pressing her back against his chest, before whispering in her ear, “You can’t get away.”
“Get off me!”
She elbows him in the stomach, but he jerks her arm and turns her to face him. Pain shoots through her head as he yanks her hair backward, making her mouth fall open. Water sloshes over her cheeks and chin as he pours in the liquid. She spits it out and twists from side to side, but his grip tightens, keeping her head immobilized.
The plastic rim scrapes against her teeth as he shoves the bottle into her mouth again, forcing her to swallow to keep from drowning. Once emptied, he tosses it aside and releases her hair, laying her on the floor as she sputters and coughs, her throat contracting from the assault. His lips graze her neck as he laughs. “I’m glad you didn’t drink the whiskey. This was much more fun.”
A warm tingle spreads through her body and her hands drop away, too heavy to push any more against his body. Darkness tugs on her eyelids, and she fights to keep them open. She has to get away before he kills her.
The faint burst of fireworks pierces the silence. His body lifts up from hers as he cocks his head to listen. “What the hell?”
The popping grows closer, and voices yell from the other side of the door before it flies open. A blur streaks through the dimness, ripping him off her and flinging him against the wall. Her eyes drift shut as red rain sprinkles down on her yellow shirt.
