Page 64 of Heston
“Gotcha,” he growled, his fingertips dug into her windpipe.
She couldn’t breathe. Striking back, she raked her nails across his face.
Lifting his other hand, he slapped her.
For one brief instant, she wondered where his fancy rifle went. But her head pounded with that slap, and her vision went bonkers. More than intel, she needed air. All her battered, bloodied nostrils dragged in was the reek of sweat and men’scologne. She remembered that smell from where she’d been beaten. He’d punched and slapped her.
“You stink like shit,” she breathed, wishing she were strong and brave like Scarlett Johansson.
“You think you’re so damned smart,” Obermeyer hissed. Lifting his free hand over her head, he slapped her again. He shook her and she turned into a loose-limbed doll. “But I’ve got you now, and you’re gonna pay for fucking with me. On your knees!” He threw her to the ground. “It’s my turn to fuck you!”
London managed to roll to her back before he could deliver on his threat. She had no doubt he’d rape her. He was a big guy, not big like Heston, but heavy. Overweight with a fat roll around his middle, Obermeyer probably raped all the women and girls he kidnapped before he sold them. She already knew he was a greedy bastard.
Isn’t that what pedophiles and perverts did? Think of themselves first?
“I said, on your knees!” he ordered, whipping the leather belt out of his pant loops, making it crack like the whip it was.
“No!” she yelled back, as loud as she could. Too bad her defiance came out like a whimper.
Obermeyer took a menacing step forward.
London crab-walked backward, keeping her swollen, blurry eyes on him. She wouldn’t get far. There were bushes and trees behind her.
In seconds Obermeyer had her by the neck again. She kicked. She flailed. Without enough air, all her efforts went into fighting the grip he had on her.
‘Hurry Hes. I know you’re coming. I know you love me. So hurry.’She could feel him in the air. He was nearby, almost there. She believed it with every noisy beat of her panic-stricken heart. He would save her. He would! All she had to do was stay alive long enough until—
Darkness closed in.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Heston heard that belt snap. One look at London turned him into a red-zone killer. There she was, on the other side of that bush, caught like a tiny, fluttering bird in Obermeyer’s fist. She was naked! The jackass was on his damned cell phone, bragging, “I caught the blue-haired pixie. This little bitch cost me plenty, and trust me, I’m taking what she owes out of her backside. You wanna watch, get here quick because I’m not waiting.”
The fuck you say!Heston silenced his comm link, tuned out the rest of the world, and zeroed down on Obermeyer. Lowering his shoulder, Heston turned into a freight train and charged straight through the bush. Obermeyer didn’t see or hear him, probably thought Heston was one of hisgood old boyscome to watch him rape a defenseless woman. Who weighed next to gawddamned nothing!
Before Obermeyer could cry out, Heston tackled the pompous prick to the dirt and pressed his forearm to the guy’s windpipe. London collapsed on her side in the dirt. Heston shot her a quick, appraising look to make sure she was breathing. She was the important one there. She’d always come first, even if saving her meant letting Obermeyer get away.
Once it was clear that London was coming around, Heston leaned his weight on Obermeyer’s throat. “Let’s see how you like it!” he hissed, so damned angry he was spitting.
Cocking his free arm, Heston delivered a wicked right hook that wiped the smug off the bastard’s face. Again! Again and again!
Obermeyer was dressed like the stolen honor bastard he was, in high-priced cammies that had never sweated out a forced five-mile march. The spiffy Boonie hat strapped under his double chin hadn’t seen one second of combat, much less war. Probably hadn’t been worn for anything other than hunting defenseless women. No tactical vest and no gawddamned sense. Fool was completely unarmed. His fancy rifle lay on the ground. Probably tossed it when he couldn’t manage it and London at the same time.
But Heston was armed to the teeth, outfitted for close combat, and trained in all the ways there were to kill a man. And he would kill this pig. That was all Obermeyer was.
Heston let his inner caveman loose. That feral beast, along with Heston’s tactical knuckle gloves, made short work of Obermeyer’s plump lips, his perfect, straight teeth, his elegant nose, and his wide-open eyes. Heston had no fucks left to give. In short order the arrogant ass on the ground was reduced to a blubbering pile of snot, shit, and blood. Obermeyer couldn’t see anymore. His face was hamburger. His orbital bones were mush inside the ragged skin of his swollen face. Big red gaps replaced his front teeth, and Heston hoped he’d swallowed every last bit of that perfect dental work.
Obermeyer batted Heston’s gloved hands away. Not happening. He begged for his life. He cried like a weak little girl. The murderer and rapist swore he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant to get carried away or hurt anyone.
Like Heston cared? Obermeyer had the nerve to mumble apologies, to swear on his mother’s grave he’d never, ever hurt another woman again.
Too fuckin’ late.
“Man up, you gawddamned motherfucker!” Heston roared into Obermeyer’s battered face. “You’re tough enough to terrorize women and little girls, yet you can’t take an ass-whipping when you deserve it? Fucking coward!”
Tipping back on his haunches, Heston pulled out his knife, snapped it open with a quick flick of his wrist, and stabbed Obermeyer’s windpipe. The breath wheezed and bubbled out of him. He was a mighty big guy when he was hiding behind a high-powered rifle and threatening women. But he was out of shape, overweight, and he hadn’t come prepared to fight like a man.
Like the bloodthirsty devil it was, Heston’s inner caveman roared for more blood. He was out of control and it felt gawddamned good. This was why he’d been born, to rid the world of despicable bastards like Obermeyer and his cronies. With a wicked swipe of that razor-sharp blade, Heston severed Obermeyer’s carotid arteries, then jumped away from the asswipe who’d dared harm London, to avoid the blood spurting from the guy’s throat.
