Page 102 of Flat Out
Then his hand moved down and forward, squeezing my breast through my suit so hard I cried out, sharp pain tearing through me. Pain so raw it made me gasp and bite my lip until I tasted blood. The violation tore through me deeper than the pain. It wasn’t just the bruise blossoming under his grip—it was the sick reminder of every hand that had lingered too long on my body without permission. I wanted to claw my skin off just to erase the feel of every man I’d been told to smile pretty for if I wanted to make it in this world.
He laughed, cruel and delighted. “Weak,” he sneered, twisting my arms even harder until my knees buckled, and his body was all that held me up. “Spread your legs for a seat, spread them for Fraser. That’s all women like you are good for.”
The shame seared hotter than the pain.
Maybe he was right. If I couldn’t even bear children, if I couldn’t have a family, then whatwasI good for? The thought gutted me more than his hands ever could. Because the worst part was that a piece of mebelieved it.
I loathed myself for the sound that broke from my throat, for the way my body reacted—frozen, trembling, helpless. Just like Monaco. Santino’s shadow crawled up my spine, memories of being pinned, being used, crashing over me like a tidal wave. I itched to scream, to bite, but his weight pressed me down until the only thing left was humiliation and the gnawing voice that whispered maybe this was all anyone would ever see in me.
He yanked me back just to slam me into the wall again. My vision blurred, humiliation choking me as plaster scraped my cheek.
“How’s that back of yours?” His voice dipped lower, mocking. “Car still bouncing? Such a shame about those packers. Carsdon’t just bite like that unless someone tells them to. And Rhea listened to mesowell.”
Ice spread through my veins.
He knew.
“You—” My voice broke on the single syllable, so I inhaled and tried again. “You did this?”And Rhea. Fuck.My stomach tumbled. She was one of my mechanics, my teammate, someone I was supposed to be able totrust.A woman who should’ve been my ally, not an accomplice to attempted murder.
His laugh was crueler than the wall cutting into my face. “Oh, little Dubois. You think any of this is about you? You’re nothing but a seat-filler. An accident waiting to happen, just like your brother was. I’m just helping it along.”
I stilled.Étienne too?
Morel’s mouth brushed too close to my ear, the proximity making me want to vomit. “And Fraser? He’s blinded by pussy. That’s all. You think he’d risk his career for you if you weren’t between his sheets? He’ll figure it out soon enough, that all you’ve got to offer is sex and soundbites.”
My stomach wrenched itself into knots. “You planned it.” Rage broke through the terror choking me. “Montreal. You planned to take Callum out. You and your little bitch boys. Why? Whyhim?”
Morel chuckled, low and gleeful, like my horror was the punchline to his joke. “Because Fraser had everything I didn’t. The car. The name. The girl. And because nothing makes the headlines like blood on the wall.”
His tongue flicked out and licked the length of my neck, and this time I did gag. I tried to pull my head away, but the fucker just tugged harder on my arms. My stomach heaved, bile burning my throat. I wanted to scream, to scrub my skin raw, but all I could do was gag on the reality that I was trapped. Humiliated. Reduced to an object for him to taunt.
“Take out a veteran, and you make space. Take out your golden boy, and the whole world watches you instead.”
My throat closed, bile rising. “So itwasabout me.”
Morel’s grip tightened until my arms felt like they were on fire. “Of course it was about you, stupid bitch.Andhim. You think I don’t see how you two look at each other? He’d burn the sport to the ground for you. Which makes you the easiest way to destroy him.”
“You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”
He just laughed and buried his nose in my hair to breathe in deeply. I felt disgusting and violated and ashamed. “Nothing unravels a man faster than watching the woman he loves fall to pieces.” His chest pressed harder into my back as his voice dropped to a hiss. “And you… you’re the perfect weak spot. The rookie. The woman. The liability.”
His hand crushed my breast again until I cried out, his dark chuckle vibrating against my ear. “Fraser’s mistake was thinking you were strength. But I know better. You’ll break. And when you do, I’ll be there to watch.”
“Pussy,” I sneered. “Get your grimy hands off me and accept the fact that a woman is better at this sport than you.”
He ground me harder into the wall, his words digging as sharp as his grip. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’ll be out before the season ends. And when you are, nobody will remember your name.”
My chest heaved, a plethora of emotions strangling me together. I tried to fight, to wrench free, but every movement sent agony screaming down my arms, through my shoulders, up my neck. A cold terror flooded me that maybe he was going to push this further, that he would pin me and strip the rest of my dignity away, touch me in despicable ways. A tear slipped free as I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for the worst.
Voices echoed at the far end of the corridor, and just like that, he released me.
I sagged against the wall, barely catching myself on my palms, my shoulders shrieking in protest. My temple throbbed and my whole body shook, but I couldn’t bear to look over my shoulder at Morel. I just curled my nails into the wall, hoping the scraping sensation could keep me from crumbling altogether.
“See you on track, princess.” He sounded way too smug as his footsteps faded away, leaving me shaking in the shadows.
Tears blurred my vision, fury clawing at my throat. I wiped them away angrily, refusing to let them win. But the truth was brutal—my limbs were sluggish, my reaction time shot, my body already betraying me.
And in minutes, I’d be strapping into that car.
