Hector was on her in an instant. He grabbed her cheeks with one hand, squeezing them roughly, his face barely an inch from her lips.
He spit the words out through clenched teeth.
"You will stop your fucking whining. Get the fuck over it. This is your life from now on. It's because of the two of you that I am out a lot of money and my brothers were beaten within an inch of their lives."
He let go of her cheeks and slapped her hard across the face, making her head snap back. She didn't let out a scream or a gasp; she cried silently, barely sniffling.
"Now shut the fuck up! Another peep out of your mouth and I will tear your ass apart with my belt."
She rubbed her reddened face and looked down at the floor. My hands shook as I watched him abuse my friend. The anger boiled inside me, burning through my veins. I've fucking had it with this motherfucker.
I turned toward the rotten douchebag.
"Why do you like to beat on women who are weaker than you? Does it make you feel tough?"
His head snapped up, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Are you challenging me again, princess? You learned nothing tonight? You have stitches in your pussy, welts on your inner thighs and stomach, a sore tongue, and yet, you still choose to mouth off."
Becca breathed in deeply, but she didn't say a word. I know I have a big mouth, and maybe I should keep it shut, but this asshole was pissing me off. Let him beat me to a pulp. The only thing I worried about was him taking it out on Becca. I lifted my chin in defiance.
"It was just a question. I am curious as to why you would beat a woman." I pointed to Becca. "She is scared to death and can't help it if she cries. Can't you give her a break? She hasn't been trained yet."
He casually strolled over to me.
I was terrified, but didn't show it.
“Stand up.”
His voice was gruff, cold, and sharp as a razor's edge.
I obeyed, not daring to provoke him further. His fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to gaze into his cruel, empty eyes—eyes that held no remorse.
“Maybe you’re right,” he muttered. “She needs to be trained, and so do you, with that smart little mouth of yours.” He shot a glance at Becca, still kneeling on the floor, silent and motionless like a broken doll.
She was trembling, but kept quiet.
“You,” he barked, pointing at her. “Get up and go sit at the table and wait for me. Dinner is done.”
He turned back to me, grinning wickedly. His hand shot out, gripping my hair and wrapping the strands tightly around his fist. He yanked me toward the bathroom, and I let out a loud yelp, my scalp screaming in protest.
The pain burned. I thought he might actually rip the roots right out of my head. I’d gone too far again…but I couldn’t just sit there and watch him abuse my friend.
He shoved me in front of the sink and finally let go.
“Lean forward. Hold on to the sides tightly.”
Panic flared in my chest.
What the fuck is he going to do to me now?
I did as I was told, heart hammering, my fingers clamping onto the porcelain for dear life. From the corner of my eye, I saw him reach for a bar of soap from the holder. He stood beside me, towering over my shorter frame.
“Open your fucking mouth,” he growled.
My stomach twisted.
OhGod. No. Not fucking soap!
