Page 60 of Pretend You Love Me
“I need to get back inside.” I try to step around him, but he grabs my arm.
“Where are you going, dolly? It’s rude to walk away when someone’s talking to you.”
“I really need to be getting back inside,” I say. His grip around my arm tightens. “You’re hurting me.”
He tightens his grip even more and says, “You were asking for it all night. I saw you watching me. Begging me with your eyes.”
“I wasn’t.”
He runs the back of his hand over my cheek. “Oh, a shy one. I like that.”
“I really need to get back.”
He leans into me, pinning me against the wall. His hand starts to slide up my thigh under my skirt.
“Please don’t.” I’m trying to remember all my self-defense training. I need to knee him in the balls, but I can’t the way he has me pinned to the wall. He’s easily twice my size. My whole body trembles.
He wraps his hand around my neck.
“So tiny,” he says. His other hand has reached my ass, and he squeezes it.
I close my eyes. “Please, I need to go.”
“So you’re one of those bitches who likes to throw around fuck-me eyes all night and flirt with everyone for tips, but you’re fine leaving a guy with blue balls. I’m fucking sick of cunts like you.”
His hand is tightening around my neck. I know if I scream he’ll probably strangle me, but if I don’t scream, there’s no chance of getting out of here.
I say a prayer and scream as loud as I can.
Chapter Thirteen
Kip
Hawk and I are knee-deep into a verbal fist fight when I hear it.
“Was that a scream?” I say.
“I think so,” he says. We both pause to listen.
“Where did it come from?”
“The alley, I think,” he says.
I race down the hall, Hawk on my heels. As soon as we stumble out into the alley, I see her immediately. Her face is pale, her eyes terrified, some fucking bastard has his hand up her skirt, hand around her neck.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” I say, lunging at him.
In the corner of my eye, I see Hawk grab Ginger and pull her back, and as soon as I know she’s safe, something entirely primal takes over. I tackle the guy onto the ground. My fist connects to his face, and I feel a crunch. It’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough. I grasp my hands around his neck and start to squeeze.
“How does it feel?” I yell. I’d love nothing more than to crush his fucking throat right now.
Hawk pulls my arm back. “That’s enough, Kip.”
“No, it fucking isn’t,” I say, tightening my grip even more.
“Kip,” he says, pulling me harder. “Stop.”
“No,” I yell. I’m fully prepared to kill this guy with my bare hands, but Hawk grabs me by the shoulders and yanks me off.
