Page 283 of Ruins
His knife slips from his hand, clattering to the floor. I twist free, reaching for my gun, but he shoves me down, his full weight slamming on top of me.
The glint in his eye sends a frigid wave of ice through my veins. Before I can react, his hands are on me.
Possessive.
Revolting.
Claiming.
I thrash, my body recoiling instinctively, every nerve in me screaming, but he doesn’t stop. His fingers clamp down on my inner thigh, rough and invasive. A cold, nauseating dread fills my veins as his hand reaches the waistband of my leggings.
I freeze.
This is it.
I can’t stop him.
Inevitable.
I shut my eyes, swallowing a sob.
After he’s done with me, he’ll take me or kill me or send me back to Santo in pieces.
Santo’s face flashes behind my eyelids.
Ican’tbe another person Santo loses.
I won’t.
The second his fingers dip beneath my waistband, I snap.
My hand shoots up, palm slamming into his nose just like Angelo taught me.
Make the fucker regret breathing.
Blood gushes. His face contorts—not in pain, but rage.
Then his hands move.
Not to his face.
To mythroat.
His fingers tighten like a vice, cutting off air, squeezing the fight out of me.
Stars begin to blur at the edges of my vision. I can feel it—death slithering closer, curling around me like a noose.
But I’m not done. I won’t let him win. Through the fog of fading breaths, something sharp cuts through the panic—
That thought again.
Santo.
What if they got to him first? What if he’s already—
No.
The thought ignites something inside me; a last, desperate ember refusing to be snuffed out.
