He seemed shocked by my denial. “You belong to me. Even when you let those other men into your bed like a dirty little slut, you always belonged to me. I’m not waiting anymore.”
I glanced at Millie whose cries had decreased to whimpers. She needed me and this bastard was standing in my way. “I will never belong to you. Try to do what you want to me, but do it knowing you will never have me in any way that’s real. You spied on me! Violated me!”
“No.” He shook his head, a madness glinting in his eyes. “I did it because I loved you. I wanted to protect you. You … You don’t understand.” He scowled. “You don’t understand because no one has ever loved you properly until now.”
Rage simmered with my fear. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Peter rushed me before I could react. He wasn’t overly built, but he was six foot and broad-shouldered. When he threw back his arm and swung it out, his fist clipping my cheek, I had no chance to react or block it.
Pain exploded across my face and knees. Ringing filled my ears, and it took a second for a sense of reality to return. Cheekbone and eye throbbing, I looked up from where I was now sprawled on the floor.
Peter glared down at me. “Now get the fuck up and leave with me.” He strode to Millie’s cot and I cried out, scrambling to my feet. The room spun a little as Pete stood over Fyfe’s daughter. “If you don’t agree to leave right now, I’ll squeeze the life out of the little girl.”
I wasn’t afraid for myself. Only the need to protect Millie filled my brain with a buzzing sound. Like something had taken over me, I heard the unfamiliar shriek of fury leave my mouth as I ran at Pete. He wasn’t expecting the attack and so when I reached him, arm swung up, he didn’t block me as I raked my nails down his face and then dug them into his shoulders. With all my might, I hauled him away from Millie’s cot and tried to hit him in the balls with my knee.
But he was too big and strong. We grappled and I managed to wriggle free, turning toward the kitchen for a weapon. He grabbed handfuls of my hair and pain screamed up my scalp, my knees giving way. A hard shove brought me crashing down, my chin jarring off the floor. Pain ricocheted through my head, but I fought through it as Pete’s hands tugged and clawed at me.With another roar of outrage, I had just enough strength to turn around.
It was a stupid decision.
The man grew a thousand arms and legs and I found myself pinned beneath his heavy body. He smelled of a spicy aftershave I knew I’d never be able to smell again without feeling sick to my stomach. Flashbacks from childhood blurred before me. Of the man who had hurt Ery and tied me and Lewis up in the annex. Not again. I wouldn’t be powerless like that again!
“You shouldn’t fight me, luv.” Pete slammed my wrists against the floor and tears of pain pooled in the corners of my eyes.
How many times had Lewis and Callie asked me to train with them over the years? To learn how to defend myself. Aunt Robyn had attempted to show me self-defense maneuvers too. I’d never been interested.
This man, this stranger, peering down at me with a mad light in his eyes, was going to win because I wasn’t physically strong enough to fight.
No.
No!
He wasn’t going to win.
Not powerless.
This bastard had had enough of me.
“No!” I shrieked in his face, making him flinch. Then I bucked and strained and snapped at him with my teeth like an animal. Pete released my wrists to smack me hard across the face again. I’d expected it, I’d wanted it. All so he’d release my hands.
I gritted my teeth against the pain and disorientation, but with my hands freed, I fought my revulsion as I grabbed the appendage between his legs and twisted with all my might.
His bellow of pain shuddered through the house and I clambered out from under him, crawling toward the kitchen.
I was halfway there, his shouts of fury and retribution making me curse my jelly-like limbs. Everything had morphed into agonizing slow motion. The kitchen seemed so far away. Millie’s wailing was like a knife twisting in my heart. She must be so afraid.
Keep moving, keep moving.
A hand clamped around my ankle.
No!
Then a masculine bellow of outrage drew my head toward the entrance.
Relief crashed over me at the men hurrying toward us, and I was sobbing before Fyfe had even reached me.
Walker was at his side, his gun clasped with both hands. Fyfe seemed ready to launch himself at me.
But Walker’s authoritative voice halted everyone. “Release her or I will shoot you.”
