Roshaun paused and then blinked like he didn’t know what I was talking about. It made me wonder if this wasn’t the first time he hurt her, and Coby had kept it from me. “What?”
“You. Hit. Her.”
Seeing that playing dumb wouldn’t work on me (I knew too much about him), he sucked his teeth and looked away dismissively. “Bitch, I ain’t hit nobody. If she told you that shit, she’s lying.”
It was all I needed to hear as I reached for my knife.
“Whoa, whoa, what the fuck are you doing?” Roshaun screamed as he scrambled to get away from me. He only made it as far as his ass since his hands were bound behind his back.
Several goons looked at each other, not knowing whether to kill us both when I walked around him and cut through the cable tie, freeing him. Roshaun—wary, injured, and close to pissing his pants—was slow to stand, and I remembered he was still healing from his broken ribs.
It was the first place I struck when I sent him back to his knees.
I watched coldly as he leaned over and spat up blood before wheezing for air. “I knew you were a piece of shit, but I didn’t know you were pathetic too,” I grumbled. This was so disappointing. I wanted to beat him up, show him I wasn’t afraid anymore, and that if he came for me, I could protect myself. But Ocean had already worked him over pretty well, so there wasn’t much fun in it for me. “Get up.”
“I can’t.”
“Get up!” I roared.
“The fuck…the fuck…the fuck are you doing,” Roshaun struggled to get out as he rose off his hands and sat back on his heels.
“I trusted you. Coby trusted you!” I drove my knee up, hitting him under his chin and knocking him back.
“Push off the ground with your opposite foot for more power and keep that leg straight,” Abel instructed. And then he sighed tiredly, like I was a disappointing pupil. “We’ve gone over this.”
Ignoring him, I placed my foot on Roshaun’s dick and pressed until he released a blood-curdling scream. Several of Ocean’s men flinched. “Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” I teased. And then I shifted more of my weight onto him, making him scream again. “How many girls have you forced this thing on?”
“Hunter, p-please.”
“I said please, too. Did you listen?” When I was sixteen and begged him not to kick me out, he said if I wanted to stay with Coby, I knew what I had to do. Roshaun didn’t answer, so I shifted my foot to his throat. He made a gargling sound when I cut off his ability to breathe or swallow. “Did you?” The fear in his eyes, knowing his life was at my mercy, was more satisfying than tiring myself out by besting him in a fight.
Only it wasn’t Roshaun’s face staring back at me.
It was my father’s.
And then it was Roshaun’s again.
Back and forth, the face of the man who hurt me switched.
One moment, I felt Roshaun’s hands on me after watching me strip. Next, I heard my father’s voice ordering me to fuck his boss. Eventually, the two men melted into one.
I pressed harder, taking away my abusers’ ability to breathe just as they’d taken away my ability to feel safe, to feel loved, and to trust. No matter whose visage appeared before me, the anger and betrayal felt the same.
The loss felt the same.
I didn’t realize I’d blacked out, and so had Roshaun. He’d stopped struggling long before I felt Ocean’s hands pulling me away. I knew it was him because of his cologne.
No one on Earth smelled as sinful as Ocean Kilpatrick.
He locked his arm around my chest, kissing the side of my face and bringing me back from the rage that had taken over me. Roshaun and my father didn’t get to decide who I was anymore.
As for the latter, I had no idea if that bastard was even still alive.
“He won’t be for long,” Ocean promised, and I realized I’d spoken out loud.
“I don’t care,” I lied. “Thank you for this, but I can’t.” I inhaled deeply because the effort it took—the weight of it—not to give in and end Roshaun Perry once and for all nearly crushed me.
But there was something else I needed more.
