Page 93 of Clash
Ratt adjusted the rearview mirror, grinning when he saw his friend expose my tits, and then pull my panties down my thighs.
“Damn, no wonder the husband is all up in her shit. That body’s perfection.”
“Make it a long trip, Ratt. I want to enjoy this.”
Then, just as he settled in behind me, everything went black, my soul leaving my body as I went back to that empty headspace I put myself in anytime Eric ever forced himself on me.
“That’s a good little skank,” he said with a laugh. His hands gripped my hips as he moved his pelvis against me, but before he could stick anything in, the van came to a sudden stop, sending him flying out from behind me and tumbling over me towards the front seat. The sides of the van door were ripped open, and before I could even scream, a shot was fired off, straight into the back of Weasel’s skull.
A guttural scream escaped out of me as blood started pouring from the back of his head, and the seriousness of the situation became all too real.
“Shut the fuck up, Gina!” He turned violently toward Ratt, who was freaking out in the front seat.
“You shot him! You killed my friend!”
“I told you assholes not to touch my wife!” Eric roared, pointing the gun at Ratt.
The other man held up his hands in defeat, waving them like a white flag.
“Hey, man, I didn’t fucking touch her this time, it was Weasel that was trying to fuck her.”
It was as if Eric knew he needed him to carry out whatever vile plan he had, because he dropped his gun, grabbing me by the arm and tugging me out of the van straight into a metal building that was about the size of two sheds.
A swinging bulb sat in the middle of the building, and the man named Ratt flicked it on, illuminating the bastard’s face and graffiti-covered walls.
“God, even kidnapped you’re still a fucking slut,” he said angrily, his glare undressing me and slicing through me all at the same time.
“Eric! How the hell did you find me?”
He laughed sardonically, rubbing his grimy fingers over his newly grown mustache.Ugh, he looks absolutely dreadful, like a porn star or pedophile, or maybe a mixture of both.
“Finding you was incredibly easy, Gina. Once you contacted your sister in Vegas, my private eye traced your call to a general area of Austin. I enlisted the help of these assholes to help me grab you, but it looks like one of them lost his fucking mind. No man but me gets to fucking touch you.” He took a step towards me, those menacing eyes narrowing the closer he got.
“I’ve been watching you, Gina. Do you know how angry it makes me knowing that another man has had his filthy hands on my woman!” his voice boomed, the walls shaking like they were being rattled by a clap of thunder.
But there wasn’t a storm in sight, not unless you counted the chaotic twirling rage that flashed in my ex-husband’s eyes.
“I’m not yours anymore, Eric. I left you. I want a divorce!”
His massive hands curled around my throat and his lips pulled into a repulsive sneer. “That’s where you’re wrong, bitch. You’ve always been mine. Mine to touch… mine to fuck… mine to control.”
My gasping breath was being constrained by his fingers, digging into the flesh of my neck and squeezing my windpipe until I couldn’t breathe.
“Did you like it when he touched you, Gina? Did you like that dirty biker touching your pussy?”
“No, of course not!” I cried.
“LIAR!” He started to pace, scratching his temple with his gun. “You may have not enjoyed it, but you sure enjoyed the other one, didn’t you, whore?”
He must be talking about Clash, but how the hell does he know about him? “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I lied.
“Stupid bitch! I got pictures.” He fished out his phone, showing me pictures of Clash and I walking together. Then there were more intimate ones, ones he shouldn’t even have and were shot from outside Clash’s window. “See that face? I know that face! You fucking enjoyed another man touching you. Hell, I bet you enjoyed that little stunt in the van as well!”
“NO!”
“Shut up!” Eric growled, his fist connecting with my face. “I’m tired of your lies, Gina. Just admit it, you liked fucking him,” he growled, shoving the pictures in my face.
Everything in me was telling me to keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t, not when I finally had a chance to say something, even if my freedom was limited at best.
